


Granger's List

by Jessiy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Concentration Camps, Cruelty, F/M, Harrowing, Heartbreaking, Human Experimentation, Inspired by Real Events, No Smut, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 31,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiy/pseuds/Jessiy
Summary: At the end of Voldemort's second war, the muggles become aware of the wizarding world. Fearing something that they don't understand, the Muggles round up wizards and put them into concentration camps. The Hunters (muggle-borns) decide to capture pureblooded wizards who escaped punishment in the last war to take the heat off muggle-born children. It's up to Hermione to protect those who seek refuge, even if it means staying off of the front lines.*NOW COMPLETE*





	1. Statute of Secrecy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story last year right after I had finished watching Schindler's List. What a moving story!  
> At the time, I thought that when people are afraid of something, they have no problem forgetting human dignity, to be able to treat people worse than animals.  
> Then I thought, the same thing could be said between the muggles and wizards. Just look at the Dursley's for example. Where is the compassion? Of course, Schindler didn't start his business because of compassion for the plight of the Jews but it did turn out that way in the end. And that's where I wanted to start this story. The inspiration for the whole thing was that one scene where Schindler is fleeing at the end of the war and he is remorseful because he could have saved more.  
> *Spoilers for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*

Chapter One: The Statute of Secrecy

Hermione felt like she was suffocating. It had been less than six months since Harry had defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts and it looked like a new war was brewing and she didn’t know if she had the energy to fight another one.

Several months ago, the British Prime Minister had released a statement outing the wizarding community to all of the world. At first, there were many skeptics, but after Muggleborn relatives began speaking out, it turned into a witch hunt. Neighbor turned against neighbor and brother against brother. It was madness. Most adult witches and wizards were smart and capable enough to hide, only the most arrogant and ignorant were caught. Muggle-born children were also handed over to the encampment officials for a ‘fair' trial. Either way, the Statute of Secrecy was abolished and everything was out in the open, just like Voldemort wanted.

The tides completely turned when a small group of Muggleborn dissidents who strenuously opposed the light sentences and punishments of Voldemort’s followers, began hunting down and handing over the purebloods to the muggles themselves. That wasn’t the only reason they hunted the pureblooded. They reasoned that if they handed over those that were on the opposite side of the war, the rest of the witches and wizards would be safe. Muggles, with the help of these vigilante Muggleborns, kept these witches and wizards in camps until each could be given a trial. Trials that never came.

What once started with the desire to punish wrongdoers, was now another full-on war between blood factions, this time, Muggleborns hunted the pureblooded. The hunters no longer cared for justice. Just as the Death Eaters hadn't cared about blood but those that stood against them at the end. A number of riches that the hunters had seized from the wealthier Pureblooded families was incredible. Their greed slowly overtook their morals and there were few left who could stop them.

As much as a lauded hero that Harry became after the war, he still couldn’t stop the hunters from abducting his fiancé, Ginny Weasley. Ginny and Molly had been captured while in Diagon Alley, the first abduction to happen in a purely wizarding place and of those that had not been tried for war crimes. The outcry was enormous. The wizarding world owed much to the redheaded pureblood family.

So once again, Harry found himself at the forefront of the resistance, the remaining Weasley's beside him. Hermione, however, was put into a difficult position by the very man who sat across from her now in the library at Grimmauld Place. Should she join the resistance or should she stay and help in a different way?

"I have nowhere else to go. Nothing left to work with. My property and wealth have been seized, and Malfoy Manor is to be auctioned off within the month. My wand is gone. If I try to run, I will die. I can't join the resistance because they would never trust me. A former Death Eater and Harry Potter's enemy is all they will ever see me as." Draco Malfoy persisted.

He looked haggard, having been on the run for a while. His normally pristine hair hung in unkempt bunches, having grown much longer than he ever had before. The jagged tips reached nearly to his collar in a color that was much darker than his natural blond. He had purple bags under his eyes and a slight twitch that Hermione recognized as extreme exhaustion or what she liked to call constant vigilance, being on watch and not having enough sleep. A symptom that she was closely acquainted with. She pitied him, the once arrogant and proud boy who was once her enemy but was now a begging her for mercy.

“Why me?” She inquired. She pitied him and his situation. Knowing that the trials had been fair yet lenient, she disagreed heartily with the current war. Those that were not there in the middle of Voldemort’s war should never pass judgment. Then again, perhaps the trials should have been open to all.

“Because you are a good person. You are strong, powerful, and respected. I need your protection. I will do anything.” Draco’s intense gaze pinned her to the chair.

“Anything?” She asked curiously.

“Yes. If you want me to be your slave, I’ll do it. If you want to work me like a house elf, I’ll learn how. If you want me to kill for you, I’ll bloody my hands. If you want me in your bed, I wouldn’t even hesitate. I will do anything. Anything.” He walked over to her and got on his knees in front of her seat, letting his hands slide up her thighs.

Her conscience twanged. She couldn’t- no- wouldn’t take advantage of him like that. Even if it was tempting to have the once proud Malfoy at her beck and call. He may be a jerk that had been a merciless bully throughout school but she would like to think that she was better than that. Plus, she didn’t believe that what the hunters were doing was right. It was just making the gulf of the blood feud wider. If she hid Malfoy and he was by no means the first to ask, she would have to present a public front with no ties to the resistance. Could she do that? Could she leave Harry and Ron to fight front and center without her? To be honest, she didn’t feel like she had a choice. Who else but her could protect these people?

“That will not be necessary Malfoy. I will not force you into slavery or anything else. You can stay here but you will have to be confined to my room so that no one suspects that you are here. I will figure out what to do, but it will take me a few days.”

He nodded in relief. His silver eyes devoured her, something unidentifiable dancing in his depths.

“If you ever change your mind,” He sat up on his knees and leaned into her until his lips were just brushing the shell of her ear. “I would happily comply.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. Draco pushed away from her and stood, holding his hand out for her to take. After a moment, she slipped her hand into his and led him up the stairs, into the room that she had once shared with Ginny Weasley.

"When I moved in here there were two beds but after the war and not having anywhere to go, Harry told me I could redecorate the room. Now, I really wish I hadn't thrown myself into that. As it is, I only have the one bed and bringing in another would raise questions that would be dangerous to answer. Not everyone that comes through here is against this new war. Anyway, I can transfigure something into a bed for you but I think this bed is big enough for the both of us if you can keep your hands to yourself."

“Of course. I will be a perfect gentleman.” His eyes followed her like a hunter observing his prey.

“I’ll see what I can do about getting you some clothes. They will have to be muggle ones. The hunters are watching the wizarding shops closely, believing that the purebloods wouldn’t deign to wear muggle clothes or even know how to shop in one.”

“That’s fine.” Draco agreeably stated. Hermione arched her eyebrow in surprise. Wow.

“I’ll go get you something to eat. Make yourself at home.”

Draco lightly grabbed her arm as she moved to pass him and leaned in until his lips were close to her ear.

"I will never forget this, Hermione." He took a deep breath before he pulled away and let her go. He stood straight, making his way to her en-suite bathroom without looking back.

Hermione stood blinking for a moment before whipping around and nearly flying down the stairs. Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand to her rapidly beating heart. She needed to get herself back under control before someone came in and saw her. The whole time she was putting together a nourishing tray, she kept thinking that even though he looked ragged and his clothes torn and dirtied, he smelled great. Like pine needles and leather. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like, _tasted_ like if he had kissed her instead.


	2. The Modern Don Quixote

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> I decided that I would update a chapter once a day until this story is complete.

Chapter Two: The Modern Don Quixote

In the Chill of November air, Dennis’ dragon-hide boots crunched through the underbrush, his face a mask of frustration. He was so sure that he had him this time, the elusive and slippery as all bloody hell, Draco Malfoy. How could his hunters lose him, again? It wasn’t like Malfoy had a wand or any friends, having alienated both sides during the war. Dennis’ hunters had chased and cornered the former Death Eater in this very forest only to lose him as they closed in.

Dennis made his way to the camp that his men had set up. Sitting in front of the fire was an overstuffed red armchair waiting for him. It was an odd sight, this encampment. Mismatching tents with occupants of all ages and cleanliness. Each tent surrounded the focal point. Not the roaring fire, but Dennis’ very own tent.

Dennis was no longer the small boy who once fell out of the boat on his way to Hogwarts. He was tall and gangly but had begun to build wiry muscles underneath from the months on the run during the war and the six months since he had been hunting Voldemort’s followers. His men respected him because he was good at the hunt despite being the youngest man in camp. It made him uncomfortable at first when grown wizards deferred to him, a fifteen-year-old but he was used to it now.

He was the one who changed everything, suggesting feeding the muggles the wizards who were no more than criminals anyway. It kept muggles off of the scent of the Muggleborns- the innocent children. In the beginning, he had tried to find the children before their families turned them in but after losing the sixth child in a row to that hellhole, he changed tactics. Thanks to him, the wizarding world was mostly safe.

He folded his body into the red overstuffed chair. It had been Colin’s favorite chair and it kept Dennis on his path, reminding him exactly what he was doing. He was hunting the bastards that killed his older brother at the Battle of Hogwarts.

He covered his face with his large hand, massaging his temples. The Weasley debacle in Diagon Alley was not supposed to have happened. Once he heard, it had been too late to save them. They were already behind the gates of Redcar, the magical concentration camp.

Things didn't work in Redcar the way that they were supposed to. Time and again, several of the worst criminals incarcerated were given freedom merely for placing wards and magical retardants around the camp. It was a disgrace to his mission. It trapped the innocent and released the guilty. The Muggle government and Ministry of Magic were obviously cut from the same cloth. It didn't sit well with him. His stomach twanged with guilt for having a hand in imprisoning his own kind, but he tramped it down hard. He was the new savior of the wizarding world and he was lauded for it. He didn't see Potter out there protecting the Muggleborns.

“Sir, it has been confirmed. He is gone,” One of his men said tentatively.

“And did you find his trail?” Dennis’ continued to massage his temple.

“Yes, but you are not going to like it.” The man said tentatively. “Does Grimmauld Place mean anything to you?”

“Bloody fucking hell.” He swore. “I will go alone.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think it’s wise. He has been giving us the slip for months. At least take a small strike team.”

“If I show up in front of Hermione Granger with a strike team, we will all be sorry.” And none more than him. She was a few years older than he was but that didn’t stop him from crushing on her, for the last three years.

“Malfoy would never go to Granger. Would he?”

“Probably not. They loathe each other. Another reason for me to go alone.” If Malfoy was there, that meant Hermione was working against him. That is something he couldn’t stand for. He would do what he could to bring her to his side because if anyone had a reason to hunt down Voldemort supporters, it was that woman.

He slowly left the comfort of his chair and with a wave of his wand, he was completely packed, his tent folding neatly into the size of a paper football. He didn't bother to fill his men in on his comings and goings. If he wanted them, he would summon them via the DA coins that Hermione made back in her fifth year.

As each member had fallen at the final battle, Colin had collected their coins to help him remember which of his friends had died. The day after the battle, when Dennis prepared Colin’s body for his funeral, he had found the horde of coins in his robe pocket. It took Dennis a while to figure out that those particular coins were from the DA. But he held on to them, clutching the last things he had of his brother. It was ironic that only a month later he had doled them out to use in another war.

He shook his head and went back to the woods, searching out the trail Malfoy had left. It didn’t take him long as two of his hunters were still casting revealing spells. With a grunt, the men made way, watching silently as Dennis did what he did best, he latched onto the magical residue and used it to propel him to his destination. It didn’t matter that he had never been there, Malfoy’s magic would ensure that he arrived safely. This was the reason that Dennis Creevy shot up through the ranks. No one else could follow a trail the way he could.

With a low crack, he stared at a row of muggle housing and searched out the place he was looking for. His piercing gaze flowed from one building to the next only stopping to frown at the small line between number eleven and number thirteen.

He scowled. He should have known that Hermione would not live in a house without the best protection. No matter if Malfoy walked right in, Dennis couldn't enter the secret kept house. He settled in to wait. Hermione couldn't stay in there forever and when she did leave, he would be there, waiting.


	3. Malfoy Manor

## Chapter Three: Malfoy Manor

Hermione was determined to take the Manor. After hours of tossing and turning, she had finally come up with a plan. She was going to start a company that created artifacts that would be able to identify a witch or a wizard’s blood purity. Of course, none of her products would actually work the way they wanted it to. She would make sure of that. But having that front would enable her to hire anyone that she saw fit. With a huge vat of polyjuice potion, legitimate workers, and a working front, she could hide the pureblooded among them.

She waited only until first light before she stealthily went to the kitchen to make Draco and her breakfast. After all, the poor guy didn’t sleep a wink with all of her moving last night. He hadn’t said one word of complaint though, only turning toward her and watching her as she tried to ignore him and her churning thoughts.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He had asked earnestly, after several hours where neither one of them slept.

“I’m sorry Malfoy. I’ll just transfigure something for me to sleep on tonight.”

"Nonsense. This is your bed. And call me Draco, after all, you are my savior." His lip quirked up in a lop-sided smile, watching her as she nodded, her brows drawn together as if rethinking the whole thing. Does saying his name scare her that much?

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your new wand?” She whispered despite knowing it was only the two of them in the house.

“The hunters have it. I was in one forest or another when they caught my scent. They raised anti-apparition wards and disarmed me. I didn’t dare stick around and try to get it back. I got out of there as fast as I could. I kept moving, it was lucky that I know some wandless magic. To be honest it was pure desperation and luck that got me here. It was very fortunate that I ran into Finnegan. He told me where to find you. Even though he is a hunter, he isn’t like them. I owe him my life.”

He smiled before pulling her into his warm body, tucking her under his arm. He held her close, running his hands up and down her spine. She stiffened, vividly recalling having told him not to touch her while in bed. After a while, his breathing evened out, his small puffs of breaths caressing her cheeks. It was then that she relaxed and finally fell asleep.

The next morning found her in the frosty grounds of Malfoy Manor where the hunters were auctioning off the estate. Many people were there out of curiosity, out of spite; out of anger. It was well known that the Malfoys had impressive wards and as long as one of them still lived, the wards wouldn't easily be breached. Why buy a property one could never use? And yet they came anyway.

Hermione smiled self-deprecatingly. The amassed people were shocked that she had come to bid on the holding but after the initial surprise wore off, they probably thought it would be a fitting punishment for Voldemort’s loyal followers to lose everything and for the ancestral home to fall into Hermione Granger’s hands.

The hunters had erected a podium where the auctioneer was flanked by two guards. People milled around uncertainly staring first at Hermione then back to the hunters. They didn’t want to be targeted next by either the hunters nor Hermione. Even though everyone in attendance was a half-blood or less. No one felt safe.

The auctioneer started his rhythmic repetition, starting high at fifty thousand galleons. Hermione started to worry that what she had wouldn’t be enough. Everything she owned only amassed to eighty-three thousand galleons.

“Wait.” An invisible Draco murmured in her ear as she started to fidget.

With a barely imperceptible nod, she stood rigidly, forcing herself to stand still. Unable to stop herself from adjusting her weight from foot to foot, she hoped that Draco knew what he was doing. No one bid, watching to see what Hermione would do first. Her face was set in a blank mask, her insides squirming, his hand on her lower back.

She felt Draco’s fingers curl lightly into her shirt at her waist as he moved his warm body flush against her back. His chest was rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm, her bum nestled against his groin. It was hard to concentrate as his scent surrounded her.

“Wait.” He said, his voice barely discernable. She could feel his breath ghost across her neck.

The auctioneer was flustered when no one bid and began lowering the price at an alarming rate. The hunters scowled into the crowd, displeased as their reward kept dwindling.

“Now!” Draco commanded in her ear. “Pretend that no one is better than you. You should be good at it with all that practice in school.”

Hermione slightly narrowed her eyes, not being able to do anything unless she wanted to hand Draco over to the hunters. She stomped on that unkind thought and concentrated on the fact that she was better than Malfoy. She lifted her hand, a collective wave of chatter following in its wake.

“Sold! To Miss. Hermione Granger at five hundred galleons.” The auctioneer squeaked. The hunters were vacillating between anger for being denied a bigger prize and star-struck by being in such a lofty presence. It made Hermione uncomfortable, how revered she had become. Almost larger than life. She surmised that was why no one bid against her.

After all, everyone believed that the properties couldn’t be accessed anyway. The infamous Malfoy wards would undoubtedly hold. This was the reason Draco was here, glued to her backside under the cover of Harry’s invisibility cloak, using a wand that Hermione had found in Grimmauld Place. The day she found the wand was a memorable one. Sirius had it stashed under a floorboard in his room. It was the same hiding space where he kept his nudie mags. She really didn’t want to know that Sirius preferred petite brunettes in leather corsets.

She took a deep breath, focusing on her next act. She needed to take down wards that no one has been able to breach. And she needed to do it in front of an audience. The crowd watched as Hermione seemingly effortlessly tore the wards to ribbons in front of their eyes. In mere moments, they had elevated her even further, but It was all showmanship. Draco and Hermione had planned out the order in which to destroy the wards. Draco took down the blood and kin wards as fast as he could while she worked on the rest. It was easier than he anticipated. The Manor welcomed her with soft acceptance, the sentient wards caressing her, binding with her magic as if she was truly a Malfoy. It confused him. She wasn’t married to a Malfoy. He shook his head. Perhaps it had something to do with her blood being spilled on the drawing room floor. He remembered the burning inside him at that moment and he wished that he could have helped her escape from Bellatrix. He had watched in complete horror, frozen where he stood.

The waiting crowd watched as the new owner, Hermione Granger walked through the front gates and shut them with a bang in their faces. They knew she was a powerful witch and this solidified it in their minds. She was so very close to being worshiped as a deity. It was frightening.

Hermione took a huge breath in relief and erected strong wards around the property with Draco’s help. Keeping out anyone who dared come uninvited.

“What now?” Draco asked.

“Now, I register a business and you start on the polyjuice potion.”


	4. Showmanship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I missed yesterdays post. The kiddos and I were outside all day long! :)

## Chapter Four: Showmanship

Dennis couldn’t believe it. He had been camping out in front of Grimmauld Place for the last twenty-four hours only to have one of his scouts pop in to tell him that Hermione was at Malfoy Manor. How on earth did she get past him?

With a sharp wave of his wand, his belongings packed themselves away and he tore down the wards that kept his surveillance private from Hermione and muggles alike. Gesturing to the scout to stay and watch the house, he apparated away. He saw the crowd surrounding the podium but what drew his eyes was Hermione. The sun was shining weakly, it’s lone ray illuminating the beautiful Muggleborn. She had poise and grace as she stood proudly among the others.

Dennis longed for her to turn and see him, to see the man he had become. He was strong and smart, an equal. His hopes weren't very high but he hoped that he would one day get his chance. After all, he was the head Hunter keeping everyone safe.

Dennis leaned back against the tree as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. No one had bid against her and she won the property for little more than a pittance. He would have just gifted it to her, but he knew she would never take it. She was too proud.

Everyone had heard the exploits of the Golden Trio while they hunted Voldemort’s Horcruxes. So, they shouldn’t have been surprised when Hermione took down some of the most complicated wards that he had ever seen. He was proud of her, proud that he knew her, and would be the happiest man on earth if she ever glanced his way.

HGHGHGHGHG

Hermione walked through the nearly emptied Ministry of Magic. No longer was it the hub of government for the magical world. Instead, it was a stilted lonely place, the only occupants were the hunters who made their offices in the Minister of Magic's office.

Her lips thinned in disapproval. How could anyone tear down the magical world the way that the hunters had? She understood what it was to be Muggleborn. The awe and beauty of finding out that magic existed were sacred for her. Yes, she was hunted while in Hogwarts. Yes, she fought in a war just to live. Yes, there were many things wrong with the Ministry. This, however, was a travesty to their heritage, first generation witch or hundredth.

“Dennis.” Hermione nodded in barely contained fury. She remembered when Dennis was a first year, drenched from falling into the lake only to be saved by the giant squid. She couldn’t believe that he was the leader of the Hunters.

“Hermione it’s wonderful to see you!” His exuberance overwhelming as he acted as if he didn’t see her reticence. He smiled fully, welcoming her into his lair. “I heard you bought the Malfoy properties. I was happy to see that you were starting to contribute to our side. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to help us.”

“Actually Dennis, I am here because I want to start a business.” It would be better if she didn’t have to out-right lie. The best thing to do was use redirection and avoidance.

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to create artifacts that can locate the purebloods on the run.”

"If anyone could do it, it would be you, Hermione."

“Thank you, Dennis. I know that I would have to submit a list of workers. Is there a way that I could submit it weekly?”

“Sure. We only force those with questionable loyalty to submit worker information every day. How many are you going to take on?”

“At least two hundred, maybe more.”

“You think you have that good of a product.”

“It will be a one-time use compass.”

“That’s brilliant.” He beamed at her. Her stomach rolled in disgust but she kept all emotion off her face. She knew that the hunters were starting to train in Legilimency and she needed to be prepared.

With that in mind, she left the ministry and arrived at the gates of Hogwarts. The wards had been recast and the repairs were underway. The school still recognized Snape as the Headmaster and the Hunters were unable to pass the wards. However, they always had two stationed at the entrances, hoping to catch purebloods searching for a haven and or Headmaster Snape.

Snape was lucky to be alive. If it wasn’t for Hermione’s quick thinking in stuffing one of Nagini’s antivenoms into her beaded bag before the trio went on the run, Severus Snape would have died, bleeding out on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Hermione watched the hunters and sent her Patronus to the school, asking for admittance.

She tried not to smirk as the hunters fidgeted under her stare. They were undoubtedly impressed with her but she wondered what they would do with Professor Snape if they actually found him. They were all former students and should know by now that if Snape could fool Voldemort, they wouldn’t stand a chance. She almost wanted to be there when it finally happened.

Smiling as Hagrid opened the gate for her, they chit chatted all the way up to the Headmaster’s office. He left her at the foot of the winding stairs to ascend alone, with a firm pat on the head.

“To what do we owe this great pleasure?” Headmaster Snape drawled sitting in the Headmaster’s chair behind the desk in his office. The portraits were looking on with barely concealed interest. The nosy bastards.

“I need to learn Occlumency.”

“What for? Your people are on the top of the pecking order.”

“Don’t be churlish. I know you don’t mean to piss me off.”

“How else am I to get entertainment?”

“I am not here for your entertainment. I am harboring your pureblooded Slytherin’s and I need to be able to keep that between us.  I can’t have the Hunters poking around in my head.”

His look of shock made her smile smugly. She doubted he ever thought that would come out of her mouth.

“Why?”

“This is not right, just as Voldemort was wrong, so is this. I will not stand idly by when I could save a life.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“That was a compliment!” Her lips quirked.

“You probably heard wrong.” He denied.

"I bought the Malfoy estate and I am turning the Manor into a workplace. With the help of Muggleborns, polyjuice potion, and sheer nerve I will protect anyone who needs my help."

"Every day at noon. If you are even one second late, I will assume you are not serious about learning from me"

“Yes, sir.”

“In return, you will take in anyone I send your way.”

“Deal.”

“Draco was last seen in the northern forest. Find him. He is the first one you can save.”

“No need. He is with me at Grimmauld.”

He raised his eyebrows and said, “That’s ballsy.”

“He has been staying in my room. I doubt the hunters could even get into the house but just in case.”

“Not everyone who is on their side is a Hunter.”

“I am aware.”

“Interesting. There is more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there Miss Granger.”


	5. Night terrors

## Chapter Five: Night terrors

Draco was happy to be back home in the sense that it was familiar. If he stayed in the family wing it was most pleasant. There were no memories of Dark Lords and depraved activities. Although, it gave him a pang of sadness for his mother. She had been given a reprieve for lying to the Dark Lord at a crucial moment and therefore helping Potter save the world only to be captured weeks later and sent to Redcar. She was one of the first purebloods to be captured and put into the retention camp.

What scared Draco the most was that no one knew what exactly they were doing to the inhabitants. Supposedly they are awaiting trial, but no dates had been set and it has been months. No one came out once they went in.

He stirred the polyjuice once more and set it to simmer until the next ingredient was needed. While walking back to his boyhood rooms he thought about the previous night. Hermione had tossed and turned making sleep elusive and unobtainable. It wasn’t like he was in a position to complain, not that he even wanted to. He was very grateful that after everything and all of their history, she still saved him. He had wanted to protect her the way he never would or could while Voldemort was alive even though she was the one protecting him now. Without thinking about it, he had wrapped her in his arms and pulled her lush body to his. It was better than he ever fantasized and oh, he had fantasized about her; she was the forbidden fruit. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep once she was against his body waiting only for her to drop into the waiting arms of Morpheus first.

Over the years, he had watched her. She had been his prime wanking material since the Yule Ball.  She was so beautiful and happy, smiling at everyone on the arm of Krum. He couldn’t believe she had cleaned up so well and couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Knowing that those feelings were forbidden, he protected the both of them by turning crueler than ever. If he hurt her, she would be safer. It was sick and twisted but he did what he thought best. The more he watched her over the years, the more he admired her. She was a force of nature. Powerful and full of righteousness, she dispensed justice by a moral code Draco could never hope to meet. He was willing to do things that she never could to keep her safe. It was something he promised himself after the war was over.

As she lay under his deranged aunt, being carved into, he stood rooted to his spot. Granted his mother was forcibly holding him back, but she was slight, and he could have gotten to Hermione had he truly tried. He attributed his cowardice to all of the times he denied himself for her sake. It was the only way he could sleep at night. That’s not the way he wanted to act anymore and now there was no reason why he couldn’t treat her the way she deserved.

Maybe that was the reason the Manor accepted her. Perhaps it was his high regard. He wouldn't say it was love, not now, maybe not ever. He would take whatever she was willing to give and in return, he would strive to make her happy. Even if she didn't feel for him the way he felt for her. He would be like Snape in the way that he loved Potter's mother. Draco would yearn for Hermione until he died, even if she married the Weasel. He just wouldn't say it unless he had a sign that she would welcome it.

The first thing he did when he arrived at his room was shower. He never knew how much he took them for granted until he wasn’t able to take one on a daily basis. He let the hot water cascade down his body, loving the luxury of once again having hot water. He absently soaped his body as he began thinking about Hermione again. The woman who rarely strayed far from his thoughts these days.

He again thought about the way her soft curves had felt against his hard body. If he hadn’t been so tired, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep for the erection that sprung to life the moment she settled into him, accepting his warmth. He had pretended to sleep at first to show her he didn’t mean to do anything other than hold her and fell into a deep sleep the moment she nodded off.

The way he woke up was sweet torture. Her body had wrapped around him, leg thrown over his waist, which pinned him to the bed. He was on his back with Hermione's head under his chin and his erection was steel; so hard that he didn't think it was healthy. Barely holding back a moan, he realized that her sweet center was close to where he stood at full mast and gently disentangled himself. He began praying to any god listening, that she continued to sleep. He was trying to win her trust and hopefully affection, he really couldn’t afford to look like he was molesting her in her sleep.

He shut off the water and grabbed one of the fluffy towels that the House elves had left for him. That was a whole other kettle of fish. The fight about keeping the house elves was so damned difficult. What changed the tides of that argument was Bippy’s tears and the accusation that Hermione was stealing her home away from her that made Hermione capitulate. It was obviously where the elf wanted to be. Bippy walked away smugly, Hermione’s dirty laundry clamped in her arms.

He slipped into a pair of his silk black pajama pants and slid under the warmed covers and sighed in relief. He had missed this. Extinguishing the lights with a small magical orb next to the bed, he snuggled into the fluffy comforter.

He was only asleep for an hour before he was awoken by the terrified and panicked screams of Hermione. He leaped out of bed, running full out to get to her room down the hall. Thinking that she was being tortured, he summoned Bippy to unlock Hermione's door and rushed the room the moment the knob turned, searching for the threat. Not finding one, he quickly realized that she was having a nightmare.

He shook her, yelled her name, poured water on her; nothing would wake her. His father sometimes had suffered night terrors after he was freed from Azkaban. His mother used to worry about being unable to wake him during the episodes. Draco felt a whole new level of respect for his mother. This was terrifying to watch.

He picked Hermione up bridal style and carried her back to his room. Gently, he settled her beneath the blankets before climbing in next to her. He once again pulled her thrashing body to his and petted her hair. After several minutes, she began to calm, slipping deeper into sleep and Hermione settled peacefully into his arms. He would never get tired of this.

He dropped a kiss on her curls, basking in the scent of her and pulled back as his body began to respond. Holding her was the sweetest bliss and the most excruciating torture.

 


	6. Pavlovian Conditioning

## Chapter Six: Pavlovian Conditioning

Dennis was furious. It had taken him calling in several invaluable favors that he had been jealously guarding to be admitted into Grimmauld Place. Even then, he was stupefied and brought in unconscious so that Dennis couldn’t return without someone to let him in. It was humiliating, but the price he was willing to pay was astronomical if it meant having Hermione as an ally. For some reason, he didn’t believe that she would be happy if she knew he snuck around her house while she was out.

He wasn’t trying to invade her privacy, he was only trying to ascertain whether or not Malfoy had been hiding out in the house. Nothing seemed out of order as he walked from room to room. The only recent magical signatures that he noticed were Hermione’s and Harry’s. It was immediately obvious that Harry had not been here in months. He went upstairs to continue his search. Opening the first door he came across.

His heart sped up once he realized that he was in _her_ room. He walked around, noticing that Hermione's things were extremely tidy. Not that he expected anything less, but it was almost too clean. In fact, if she wanted, she could make this a showroom. He rolled his eyes, barely containing the need to roll on the bed and drown in her scent. That would be creepy.

He briefly pulled out the drawers and opened the doors, noticing that most of her things were gone. She was probably moving into the Manor, it had wards that competed with the ones on Grimmauld Place. He blushed bright red when he got to her underwear drawer, several lacy knickers laid forgotten at the bottom. He ran his fingers over the light pink pair, envisioning what she would look like in them. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he was doing and slammed the drawer shut. He raised his shaking hands to cover his eyes. He took a deep breath and moved on, completing the invasion without finding anything that would make him suspect that Malfoy was ever there. It was as if Malfoy completely disappeared if he was ever there at all.

Dennis huffed in annoyance. He would have to start all over again before the magical signature in the forest completely faded. This was a dead end. He couldn’t help but feel relief that Hermione was not involved with Malfoy. He didn’t want to seem like the bad guy if she turned that pureblooded prat into her next pity project.

Dennis left Grimmauld Place the same way he entered, unconscious and floating, the scowling face of Severus Snape the last thing he saw before he was hit with a stunner, point blank.

"And if you ever try to use that against me again, it will be the last thing you ever do," Snape muttered to Dennis' unconscious body.

**HGHG**

Hermione was nervous. She remembered Harry’s descriptions of Occlumency with Snape. She had no reason to believe it would be any better with her just because she secured his agreement. Granted, Snape and Harry never got along. It will be better with her. She hoped. She was determined to treat this like a gift. A wonderful opportunity to learn from the best Occlumency Master in the world.

Hermione apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, eyeballing the two sentries as they tried to appear unruffled. After a moment of staring on everyone’s part, Hermione smiled charmingly and held out the basket that she carried with her.

"You strong men look like you need some comfort. I brought you some muffins that my House-elf baked for me. They are chocolate chip. See?" She lifted the cheesecloth and a delicious aroma wafted out of the basket.

“For us?” The one guard asked skeptically. The other had already sidled up next to her, elbow deep in the basket.

“What a love,” He winked and whispered to her as he pulled out three of the muffins with one hand.

“Of course, for you. I bet you feel underappreciated being permanently stuck guarding Hogwarts, knowing that Snape could leave whenever he wanted to. I’m sure that somebody has to do it. I just thought I should let you know that _I_ appreciate what you are doing.”

“That is very sweet, Miss Granger. Now if you intend on wasting any more of my time I will go back to the castle, alone. Mr. Murray, Mr. Denkins.” Snape glowered at the two guards and raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

She smiled sweetly as she handed the basket to the guard who still looked at her with suspicion and squeezed through the gate. Once they were halfway to the castle, Snape turned to her and smirked.

“What was that?”

“An experiment.”

“With what goal?”

“Pavlovian conditioning.” She smiled back.

He threw back his head and laughed. A rich throaty sound that reverberated off the stone walls.

“You, Miss Granger, should have been sorted into Slytherin.”

“If only I was born to a different family. Darn. The crap I miss out on because I am not pureblooded. I am positively distraught.” Her sarcasm was delivered with an amused grin.

“Not all Slytherin’s are pureblooded, Miss. Granger.” He drawled. “They are just predominant.”

“Yes, Yes.” She said with a smile, waving away his argument.

“I must tell you that I took Mr. Creevey into Grimmauld by stunner. I was right, he was overly interested in your knicker drawer.”

“Ew.” She said making a face. “Do you think he will realize that everything was staged?”

“Not for a while. He is a Gryffindor and they don’t do well with subtle.”

“I understand it just fine.”

“Like I said. You were sorted wrong.”

Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes. They walked to the Headmaster’s office. Snape stopped just before he let her through the threshold.

“When you leave, I have someone for you to take with you.”

“Oh?”

“You remember Mr. Oliver Wood?”

He opened the door. Wood was standing, hat in hand looking rough and dirty, in much the same way Malfoy had come to her. Hermione slowly smiled.

“Harry will be very happy that you weren’t captured.” She told Wood.

“Is Potter with you then?” a slow smile spread on his face.

“Not at the moment.”

“The boy is off playing the hero again. I’m starting to think it’s a compulsive condition.” Snape deadpanned. Hermione glared at the Headmaster. He studiously avoided her eye as he dismissed Wood to find himself occupied elsewhere.

Snape was menacing in all his black-robed, multi-button glory. He stood over her with his wand raised, a devilish look in his eye.

“Legilimens.”

 


	7. Training the Mistress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for not updating once a day. Our house had been overtaken by the cold and I have been down for the count.

## Chapter Seven: Training the Mistress

Hermione had decided to arrange a warm meal for those that were rejected from her employ to be led into the dining room before being sent on their way. The House Elves were over the moon. The Mistress gave them something to do. She gave them _orders_. Hermione grimaced as she remembered how she was manipulated by Bippy, the head house elf. One moment she was muttering about feeding all these people and spending money on catering, the next she was being sobbed on while being asked what the house elves did wrong. Bippy shook and attempted to punish herself for her lack of usefulness to the Mistress. Hermione relented, asking if Bippy would like to make the food, only to be stared at from huge popping eyes, tears still sliding down her leathery cheek.

“Is that an order, Mistress?” She whispered.

“No. I wouldn’t order you.” Hermione was interrupted. Bippy was inconsolable as Draco quietly chuckled from behind the desk. “How do I make her stop?” Hermione asked worriedly, almost panicky.

“Give her what she wants.”

“And that is?”

“She wants you to order them to make food for all of the applicants.”

Bippy wailed louder, Hermione’s robes were soaked as the Elf rested her face in Hermione’s lap. Hermione was trying to pat the elf only to be rejected, a glower on her small face.

“Bippy. I would like it very much if you and the other house elves would make food for the people coming tomorrow.” Hermione muttered, almost hoping that she wouldn’t be heard. Bippy stood, a wide smile on her face as she patted Hermione’s knee.

“It’s okay. We is just teaching you how to be a good Mistress.” Bippy’s tears dried and a mischievous smile overtook her face as Draco winked at her from the other side of the room. Hermione was gaping like a fish as Bippy apparated away.

“What just happened?” Hermione asked flabbergasted.

“You, Hermione, were just manipulated by a house elf.”

“How did this happen?” She whispered as Draco laughed.

“You never did understand House Elves.”

She realized exactly how out of depth she was with the small headstrong beings. It seemed that they were more than capable of protecting themselves, for the most part.

“It would be easier on you if you just accepted that you are their Mistress and treat them in the way that they want. I’ve seen angry House Elves before, I promise you that she will not stop until you are completely wrapped around her demanding little finger.”

“What about Dobby?” Hermione accused. Draco looked sad for a moment before apparently making a decision.

“Dobby was my grandfather’s elf and he never really got along with him nor my father. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know this; the other elves never intervened with his treatment and they are very protective of their own. My mother was forbidden from giving him any orders nor was he allowed to ever appear in front of me. When Grandfather died, the abuse got worse and Bippy stepped in. I was in the kitchen one night, nicking some of the leftover sweets, when I heard Bippy send Dobby to Potter, to prevent his return to Hogwarts. I was surprised when Potter not only showed up but arrived late flying that stupid car.” He muttered bitterly.

“Are you excusing Dobby’s abuse?”

"No. I am just saying that it was extremely unusual House Elf / Master behavior. I've never before seen a Master/ House Elf dynamic like it." Draco frowned. "They need to feel like they belong- like they are needed. They are a part of your family now and Bippy won't settle for anything less. Better just give in while you still have the appearance of dignity."

Hermione gave in, taking Draco’s advice over the next few days. It was hard, as it went against her sense of justice, but it became increasingly clear that Bippy would inevitably force an order out of her either way. It was obvious; Hermione was being trained. She had built a great amount of respect for the tiny elf, rivaling the affection she had had for Dobby.

An owl swooped in her window, an unknown barn owl that dropped his letter at the first opportunity. After making sure that the letter was harmless, she unrolled the scroll.

_Hermione,_

_We have finally found the location of the camp known as ‘Redcar’. I have never seen anything like what the muggles are doing, even at the very epicenter of Voldemort’s operation that was filled with unimaginable depravity was less shocking. They are only feeding them enough to stay alive, well the useful ones anyway. It is sickening. They constantly beat them, trying to force the magic out of them. I am worried that one of the children will develop an obscurus. They are being used in experiments and as collateral against their magical parents, forcing their obedience. I was lucky to notice Andromeda and was able to meet her at the west fence. She has seen Ginny and Molly. They are still alive, Thank Merlin! I am not sure when Andromeda was taken but Teddy was captured too. She looks bad. I can't leave them in that place. I can't let anyone waste away in that horrible camp, most of all the children. Ron and I are going to break out as many as possible tonight but first, we need to take down the wards. I would recognize Dolohov's work any day. The officials offered him a deal, apparently. If he could erect wards that would keep the others in the camp, they would allow him to go free. That was two weeks ago. He has successfully raised the wards. I can only assume they kept their end of the deal. Be careful, you know that he has a personal vendetta against you. I will send as many victims to you as soon as I can. Only you can protect them now._

_Love,_

_Harry._

“Merlin!” Hermione gasped. She handed the scroll to Draco, unable to give voice to the atrocities being committed by the muggles. He scanned it once and then a second time, hope and fear on his face. “Harry doesn’t know that you are with me. It would be too risky for anyone to know exactly who I protect. I am sure your mother is alright. If she is, Harry will save her.”

“I wish I had your faith, Hermione.” He muttered. “Now, I will worry about the one thing I can do something about, Dolohov.”


	8. Shifting Tides

## Chapter Eight: Shifting Tides

Two days later, Hermione was watching as an unending flow of people as applicants streamed into the Manor. Draco stood next to her, tall and imposing; polyjuiced as a man who looked remarkably like Tom Riddle in his youth. When he had found her in the office earlier, looking like that, she nearly had a heart attack. Where did he find someone that looked identical to Tom Riddle? It was unsettling, and Hermione shuddered as he came near.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, Hermione.” He said, confused. For every step he took forward, she took one back, fleeing across the room with her face bleached of color.

“Whose hair did you use?”

“I found a hairbrush in one of the other rooms full of hair. I thought I should check the hair around here first. We did hold many people captive in the Manor during that last year of the war.”

“Do you have any idea who you look like?” Hermione choked.

"Someone, you know?" He asked.

“I would say so.”

“Who? It’s clearly not someone you fancy.”

“Tom Riddle.”

He looked horrified for a moment as that information sunk in before a contemplative look settled over his face.

“This could work in our favor.” He whispered. “There aren’t many who remember what the Dark Lord looked like as a young man.”

“The people I love, the ones I am protecting the most, know. Harry knows. As do Ron, Ginny, and everyone who fought with us from the first war.”

“But Hermione think. They know he is dead, but they still fear his return. Looking like this will throw them off.”

“Except you will become an even bigger target. You are being hunted as it is, that is assuming they even realize who you look like.”

“It will keep their focus off of what you are doing here. I will just have to be very careful never to miss a dose. If they never realize who I look like, then I am safe anyway.”

“So, you are planning on helping me in the business? Of course, if they catch or kidnap you because of your new face, I will be up a creek, and I would have to spend valuable time finding your arse. Are you willing to risk getting caught and leaving me alone?”

"It's not just about us. I am finally on the right side and I will not back down again. I am a Slytherin and we protect our own. I can't do that by cowering in the dungeons or being incarcerated in a death camp.” He passionately declared. His eyes were bright with conviction and his hands were fisted at his sides.

Like this, he was an incredibly attractive man but that is not what drew her in that moment. It was the sense that this was the new and improved Draco Malfoy. He may be hiding behind a face she reviled, but his mannerisms and speech patterns were all his. She could feel herself falling. Who was she kidding? She was already there. Her pulse raced as she realized that she wouldn’t come out of this war unscathed. She was already caught, hypnotized by him. Draco made her heart pound and it scared her that with a single look, when not polyjuiced, her stomach would erupt with butterflies. A whispered word in her ear had her flushed, and his warm body that kept her nightmares at bay every night was a comfort and safety that she couldn’t walk away from.  She knew that she wanted him, the tormentor of her childhood but she denied herself. Deny, Deny, Deny. It was the only way she could keep up with the danger that surrounded them. Anything more was lunacy. This was war and people died in war. She wouldn’t be able to come out the other side if she lost him after only just finding him. She put up a barrier between them.

Hermione shook her head as she came back to herself, standing on the mezzanine watching the flow of people who were so desperate for work that they unflinchingly entered Malfoy Manor which was a den of misery and debauchery less than a year ago. 

"There must be five hundred or more people here," Hermione said.

“Probably more than a thousand.”

“We can’t possibly hire everyone.” She said regretfully.

Draco looked at her out of the corner of his dark eyes.

“You wouldn’t want to.” He said. “We have to select carefully. Do you really want to deal with a spy in your midst?”

Hermione shook her head. She watched as the crowd flocked around the long tables that were set up as a first defense. They were supposed to weed out most of the people that were unsuitable for this new operation.

The people who made it to the next level of screening were taken into the ballroom, where their strengths and weaknesses in casting were evaluated. Even though Hermione was determined that her products be sabotaged, she still needed a respectable front, and no one would believe that Hermione Granger would hire anyone but the best. She was walking a tightrope and thought about another person who had walked that line far too long and often to be compared to. She had been doing it for days, Snape had done it for decades. It made her pity him. She snapped back to herself with a low curse. She hoped to Merlin that Snape never saw that. He would murder her if he even felt one twinge of burgeoning pity for him.

Draco elbowed her and took a deep surprised breath. Hermione followed the line of his vision and froze. An emaciated Narcissa Malfoy was being led through the front doors by an equally gaunt Blaise Zabini as she cradled a skeletal Teddy Lupin.

“My God.” Hermione gasped. It took three seconds for Hermione to get a hold of her limbs and run down the stairs to collect the unlikely group. She waved her wand furiously, shielding them with a bubble of obscurity. Draco simultaneously cast a notice-me-not charm and the combined weight of the spells forced the influx of applicants to surge forward like sheep, their only goal was to get to the tables at the front of the room.

“What is going on?” Narcissa choked. Looking around as if her whole world had dissolved in front of her eyes.

Hermione touched her shoulder, making the Malfoy matriarch flinch and Hermione pulled her hand back. She moved in closer to talk, cautious even in their privacy bubble.

“Let’s talk somewhere else, somewhere more private.” Draco murmured soothingly, taking his mother’s elbow and led them up the stairs and further down the hall where the family rooms were situated.

The older woman nodded her head, allowing herself to be led, still holding Teddy in her arms. Hermione didn’t offer to take the young boy for her even though she looked like she would collapse. Sometimes trauma can bind people together, no matter how unlikely.

With a hasty wave, one of her new hires stepped up into the role of supervisor, knowing that both Hermione and her manager would be unavailable. Hermione bit her lip, hoping that with all the activity, the Malfoys reunion went unnoticed.

Hermione was uncomfortable as she followed Draco and Narcissa through the building that was once her home and in Hermione’s mind was still the rightful owner. She had no desire to keep Malfoy Manor after this war was over. For now, their roles forced them to act as if it was perfectly natural for Hermione Granger to grant refuge to people that had painted her with a brush of disdain throughout her childhood. Her parents had taught her well, the best revenge was kindness. Even if it wasn’t the most satisfying. Still, she didn’t relish the relief and gratitude that flooded their faces. She didn’t want it. She just wanted to live out her life making the world a better place. Was that so much to ask for? She supposed she got exactly what she asked for.

 


	9. Cold Fury

## Chapter Nine: Cold Fury

Dennis stood dumbfounded in the center of the hall at Malfoy Manor. Betrayal overwhelmed him as he watched the unidentified man standing next to Hermione lay his hands on her back. As if he had any right to touch her. He narrowed his eyes with jealousy. There was no way he would allow someone to get close and use his sweet Hermione.

Knowing that she was fierce and brilliant didn’t stop him from also believing that she was also a bleeding heart for causes and second chances. Just like Dumbledore. Not everyone would be as nice as he was and watch over her. With Harry and Ron gone, Merlin knew she needed someone to care for her. Although she didn't need anyone to protect her, he firmly believed that everyone needed someone, and he would be happy to fulfill that need.

Dennis looked around with interest. He wasn't surprised in the least at the massive outpouring of applicants. Everyone wanted to be near Hermione Granger, war heroine, and famous Muggleborn. He watched on the periphery as witches and wizards surged around him. Their single-minded goal was only to have her employment and protection. The unblemished glory of being near Hermione Granger, war hero, was an attractive perk of the job.

That was when he saw _them._ He couldn’t believe it. Dennis nearly lost his head with fury as the Lady Malfoy and Zabini made their way into the foyer holding what was undoubtedly their love child. Sickened, he rushed forward intending on cutting the necrotic waste out of Hermione’s life without her even noticing. Imagine his surprise when he watched his woman fly down the stairs, wrapping the undeserving with her gentle protection. It all happened so quick, that no one else saw the exchange. The only reason that he noticed was that he was so focused on her. There were no words that could adequately describe his indignation that she was fraternizing with the enemy, _her_ enemy. These people made her life hell for years, so, why was she wasting her time and compassion? His lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes hooded as he fell back, blending in with the crowd. Watching. Always watching.

If he ever needed proof that she was working against him, here it was. Right in front of his eyes. He studied the dark-haired, handsome man that had been with Hermione as he guided the Slytherins up the stairs to the rooms beyond. Was this- could this be the elusive Draco Malfoy in disguise?

He thought back to his time at Hermione’s home, how cold and desolate it seemed. At the time, he attributed this to her moving into the Manor but now that he thought about it, he was positive it was not so. After all, hasn’t he been getting reports that Hermione was stopping in at Hogwarts on a daily basis? She had a good or at least professional relationship with the dower Headmaster, of that he was certain. Could Snape have manipulated him? If anyone had the right to hate purebloods wouldn’t it be the man who had to walk among them? Who suffered under their shared master? Dennis would have been more concerned about her visits before had the guards not absolutely gushed over her. She always brought them food. And maybe that was the crux of the situation. She was clever, his Hermione.

He wove through the sea of people and inched his way quietly up the stairs to follow them and it wasn’t long before he found the room they were in. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened intently hoping to make sense out of the muffles. He nearly missed it when the door swung open and the handsome stranger walked out of the room. Dennis, who was hiding behind the newly opened door, went unnoticed. It enabled him to follow the man into a room further down the hall. A room, he realized, that was being used as his bedroom. Trousers and lace made up a pile of clothes, just waiting to be picked up by a house elf. Did that mean they were sleeping together, this man and Hermione?

 Dennis silently fumed and watched as the man took a sip from a silver flask that he pulled from his night side table. Believing that this man was somehow taking advantage of Hermione, he gnashed his teeth. He would bet his comfy red armchair that this man was drinking Polyjuice. But there was something about this man that seemed familiar and not just in an ‘I've seen him somewhere before' way. I was more of an ‘I chased this guy across the country' kind of way. It must be the elusive, Draco Malfoy. Fuck!

This realization forced him to quickly decide on his plan. Draco Malfoy was nothing if not trouble. And Dennis had no intention of leaving this man who could do some serious damage with Hermione. Silently, he locked the door and raised his wand.

"Stupify," Dennis muttered. He was surprised when his spell was deflected, a determined glint entering his eyes as he continued his barrage of spells. It didn’t take long for him to learn that he was outclassed.

“Expelliarmus,” The dark-haired stranger said, disarming Dennis. The stranger smirked, a look he had seen so many times before but on a different and much younger face.

“Can I help you?” The mysterious man’s frigid stare bore through Dennis.

“I know who you are. How long do you think you can fool Hermione into helping you? It was only a matter of time before I would hunt you down like the animal you are.” Dennis wildly said. He watched as the man flinched, sneering as his suspicions were confirmed.

"You are going to have to do better than that, Creevey if you want to capture me."

“I don’t know how you escaped us in that forest, Malfoy, but heed this warning. I am taking you in and if by some impressive miracle, you escape, know this; Hermione will never be yours and if you know what is good for you, you will keep your damn hands off of her!”

“Powerful words for a kid without a wand. If you want to throw around your weight, Creevey, better be prepared to back it up with actual skill. When you are ready to play with the big boys, come find me. Bippy!”

"Yes, Master?"

“Show the filth out!”

“Yes, Sir!” She exclaimed with pleasure, a small satisfied smile plastered her face.

Colin glared at Malfoy and sneered. With a surprising speed, he lashed his closed fist out, opening it at the last moment in a surprising show of wandless magic. Dennis’ wand flew out of Malfoys hand and returned to its owner, who wasted no time in continuing his duel with Draco. Using his wandless magic once more, Dennis summoned ropes to bind the House Elf, stopping her from leaving to get help. It would be pure foolishness to provoke Hermione. She didn’t have to know that he had been there at all. Especially, when she believed she was justified in her actions.

Draco, who was not expecting the show of wandless magic, was overtaken. The ropes wrapped around his struggling body, fury pouring off of him in waves. Dennis slowly walked up to Draco’s struggling form and pulled out the flask from Draco’s inner robes and up-ended it in front of Draco’s eyes. They both watched as a substantial amount of Polyjuice potion splashed on the floor, ruined. Dennis squatted down in front of Draco’s face, disarming and silencing him easily now that Draco was bound.

“I have a special place for you in Redcar, Malfoy. The guards are just going to love you. I hear they have a fondness for pretty blond hair.” He lifted the wavy brown hair and gave it a light tug. “We just have to wait for the Polyjuice to wear off, don’t we?”

Malfoy glared at Dennis mutinously, realizing that he was finally in the hands of the hunters. His face pinched with loathing and it was obvious that there was no one he hated more than Creevey at the moment. His stomach churned with anger but the only one thing that raced through his mind was escape. Knowing that it was going to be tricky to pull off, he let himself go still. His rebellion and escape had to come at exactly the right time.  Draco’s only relief was the knowledge that Hermione had come up with a contingency for such an outcome as this. He just had to hope that Creevey wouldn’t search him too thoroughly before he could enact such a plan. Hermione needed him.


	10. What is a life worth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I am terrible at this once a day upload thing...

## Chapter Ten: What is a Life Worth?

Hermione walked with a determined fury, and Platform 9 ¾ was devoured under her feet. She looked up at the Hogwarts express, trying not to pay too much attention to the passengers, knowing that she couldn’t save them.

Using all the determination in her arsenal, she pushed the horror of seeing the cars overstuffed with people out of her mind and focused on her mission. There was one person that she was determined to save at all costs. She needed him.

Hermione had been completely enraged when Bippy interrupted her talk with Blaise and Narcissa to learn that Draco had been apprehended by a hunter. After Bippy described the man to Hermione, she sat frozen with anger. Her face turned red and the vein on her forehead pulsed. Dennis Sodding Creevey.

That was how she found herself at Kings Cross station. With a large fortune weighing down her pockets, walking into a den of hunters that were busy sneering at the new batch of unfortunate prisoners. She breathed in through her nose slowly.

 There was no way to save them. She had to focus.

Putting on her most charming smile while also trying to channel the adoring flippancy of Lavender Brown in their sixth year; Hermione turned the full force of her will against the man who was guarding the first car. She knew it was the right car. The wards shimmered and pulsed around that one fixed point.

They really didn’t want him to escape and it made her feel sick. Did they already know who they captured? Did Dennis confiscate all of the tiny vials of emergency potion that they hid in his clothes? She hoped not, or she might find herself in the car right next to him. Then they would both be up the creek without a paddle.

“Mr. Cresswell.” She greeted, giving him a shy smile, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes. She felt like an idiot but knew sometimes being subtle was more important than feeling comfortable. Flirting might give her the extra edge she needed to get Draco out of this mess.

Yes, she would love to go in wand blazing to rescue the whole of the people on the cars. But that was inadvisable. Where would these people hide if she were captured? What would stop them from being recaptured immediately? She needed to use every ounce of cunning that a born Slytherin would use despite not actually being one. Although, thinking like a Slytherin was easier said than done. She tried to relax and imbued the famous Dumbledorian twinkle in her eyes as she stared at her newest victim. What was it worth to her, the price of just one person’s life? A little awkwardness was a small price to pay in her opinion.

“Miss Granger, how can I help you?” Cresswell asked, a considering smile on his face. It seemed as if he was interested and Hermione tried to play things off as if she knew what she was doing. He was older than her, probably Bill’s age but she knew that didn’t really matter. She got that look a lot these days from all manner of people, that appreciation they had for the way she looked. Having never been considered as beautiful or in Ron’s eyes a girl at all, it never failed to shock her that men looked at her and liked what they saw. She supposed that she would never get used to it.

“My overseer has been taken by mistake. He runs the day to day operations at the Manor. I really can’t afford to lose him.”

Cresswell lifted his clipboard and smiled indulgently at her, leaning against one of the pillars on the platform, indolently.

“Name?”

“Racheté. Alexander Racheté.” She said. The unfamiliar alias they had agreed on tumbled clumsily off of her tongue. He stiffened at the name and looked at her with alarm.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but Dennis brought that prisoner himself and is convinced that he is Draco Malfoy. I can’t just hand him over to you. More than just my job is on the line here if I let Malfoy escape again.”

“Does the prisoner look like Malfoy?” She asked tentatively.

“No,” He answered quickly. Everyone knew what Malfoy looked like. Someone would have to be a complete idiot to miss the white-blond hair. It was like a neon sign.

“How long has he been in your custody?” She pressed.

“A while.”

“Longer than an hour?”

“Yes.” He was obviously rethinking this line of questioning. She was the famous Hermione Granger, the brains behind the golden trio. He already knew he was outclassed. Hermione struggled to keep the relief off her face. It was good to know that Draco still had access to the polyjuice vials.

“So, you can discount the use Polyjuice. What are your theories then? If he doesn’t look like Malfoy, do you think he has a glamour charm? Did you try finite incantatum?”

“We did.”

“And?”

“He didn’t change.”

“What makes you think he is Malfoy?” She asked curiously, knowing he was trapped. He knew it too and it showed from his awkward, defensive pose.

“Dennis said so.”

“And he is infallible? Let me ask you something, Mr. Cresswell. Do you think I am easily duped?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Am I unintelligent or lacking in common sense?”

“Of course, not!”

“Have I ever given the impression that I was not extremely thorough in my selection of workers?”

“Not that I know of, but then again it’s not my job.”

“Don’t you think that you should be able to release him to me?”

“I wish I could.” His gaze shuttered and she knew he was close to bailing on her. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

Hermione slid closer so that they were nearly touching and dropped the pouch of galleons into his robe pocket. His startled eyes shot to hers, fear replacing confusion and reticence.

“I need him. I can’t spend my valuable time doing grunt work. I need to spend that time perfecting my spells. Could you, just this once, do me a huge favor?” The bribe left her lips easily. She was shocked at herself. Where was the Hermione Granger that would have fought injustice such as this? Internally she sighed. There were too many people counting on her to stop now.

“Miss Granger,” He whispered anxiously looking around at his brethren.

“Please?” She asked just as quiet.

He deliberated for a moment, a pained expression crossing his face. He grabbed her bicep and steered her behind the huge column before looking around to make sure they were not being watched.

“Ten years ago, my mother remarried a muggle and they had a daughter together. My little sister is magical and is having uncontrollable outbursts. Right now, they are in hiding because their muggle neighbors tried to report her and have her sent to Redcar. I know you have taken over Malfoy Manor. Would it be possible for her to live with you? I need to keep her safe.”

"I don't know. It's a business, not a school. What would I even do with her?"

The money pouch dropped back into Hermione’s pocket.

“If you take mine and Finnegan’s little sisters, I will release your worker.” His light blue eyes pled with her. They were both taking a chance and she saw it as the olive branch it was. She knew what she had to do and grimly set to work. How much was a life worth?

“Give me my man and three others off the train and I will do it. Every time you want to send someone my way, you are going to have to pay their fee with three free workers.”

He paused and looked around again before pulling her into his chest. Stiffening, she prepared to hex him if he stepped even one toe out of line. He leaned down and breathed his answer so quietly that she nearly missed it.

“Every Thursday I am at the gates of Hogwarts. Four am is when the guards change and I oversee it. Finnegan was right about you. The best of the best. I believe we have struck a bargain, Miss Granger."

“And my manager?”

“I will get him right now.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, his shoulders relaxed as he sauntered over to the heavily warded train car. Lowering the wards took a few minutes but despite the dodgy looks he kept getting from his compatriots, he kept on. He stepped out of the line of sight for a moment before reappearing on the deck, a young Tom Riddle in tow.

She could live a thousand years and still shudder in the face of this man’s appearance. She watched Draco with resignation. Harry was going to throw a complete fit if he ever saw Draco in this disguise.

With a thankful nod from Cresswell, Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and twisted them into the tight tube of apparition, past the wards and protections of Malfoy Manor to land in their shared bedroom.

She took one step back and smacked him across the face. He made no move to stop her until she raised her hand a second time. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her trembling figure into his body.

“I’m so sorry, Love.”

Hermione burst into tears, burying her face in his chest. He stroked her hair, murmuring comforting apologies and kissed her springy curls.


	11. Hell, Hath Frozen Over

## Chapter Eleven: Hell, Hath Frozen Over

Hermione was standing on the mezzanine once again. It was day six in their selection process and they were blown away by the response from all manner of people. Draco had spent the day trawling through the crowds trying to find out exactly why they were all here for a job. It wasn't that bad in Diagon Alley, was it?

The surprising consensus was that people felt safe here under Hermione's watchful eye. For Hermione, the looks of awe and gratitude made her uncomfortable but what really made her squirm was the newfound knowledge that a sect of wizards had created a shrine in her honor. They raised her to a level with Merlin and she wasn't even dead yet. It was unnerving.

After Draco finished polling the applicants, Hermione insisted that he spend the day with his mother, Blaise, and Teddy. No longer was he going to be front and center in this operation. He was too valuable to lose and there was no need to openly bait Dennis like that.

As she was watching the lines of people, she saw a disturbance on the far side of the room. There was a ripple of space and her eyes narrowed. Harry wouldn’t be stupid enough to use the cloak to walk in the Manor while there were witnesses, would he? Hermione glided down the stairs, the sea of people parting for her automatically. She was starting to hate the deference that she was shown.

Once she found the trail of rippling space, she followed it. She moved beyond the tables, down one of the least used portions of the house. It was where Voldemort was housed when he lived here. There was an unspoken rule that everyone avoided that corridor. It was creepy and stank of the residual dark magic that were practiced there. She grew uneasy as she continued following Harry through the halls, sure that he would stop at any moment.

With a deep sigh of relief, she saw a door to their right open. She walked through, the door snapped shut behind her. Darkness enveloped them, only a sliver of light between the heavy curtains lifted the gloom. With a wave of her wand, the lamps lit, flaring a little before settling into a nice ambiance.

The air rippled as a cloak was thrown off a large male figure. Not Harry, Hermione thought as she stared into the dark, hard eyes of Antonin Dolohov. He held his hands up as if she were a spooked animal.

“Calm down, Pchelka, I will not hurt you.”

"Dolohov." Hermione gripped her wand in a white-knuckled grip.

“I need help.”

“Why would I help you? You have been on the run since your master was defeated. You didn’t even sit trial. The only reason you need my help is because Dennis is very good at tracking down wizards. Not that I approve of what he is doing.”

“I will turn myself in once this craziness has passed. I will make an unbreakable vow if you need.”

“You don’t deserve my help.”

“I know.”

“Harry said you were coming after me. You hate me. Why come to me for help?”

“I don’t hate you, Pchelka, I’ve never hated you. I resented you, yes, but I never hated you. You are the only person who is able to help me. I’ve heard the whispers. You protect the young Malfoy. You could protect me too.”

“He was just a kid who didn’t want to be a Death Eater.”

“You are so quick to judge. Fifty years ago, that boy was me. A boy that was in way over his head with no way to back out. You see, I was in the Dark Lord’s original group. He made it seem like we were the ones fighting against injustice. You don't want to hear it but Muggle-borns caused huge problems back then. They didn't keep secrets well, thinking their friends would be just as excited about magic as they were. Thousands of cases of abuse and death at a muggle's hands because of jealousy, fear, and any number of terrible things over-ran the Ministry. The Ministry merely watched and did nothing to shield us. Even Dumbledore lost a sibling to them. The movement wasn’t always so evil, so twisted.”

“Are you trying to justify what you did? To me?”

“No! I am trying to make you understand. I’ve made mistakes and I will allow justice to run its course but we both know that this is not justice. This is a Holocaust.”

The door slammed open and Hermione and Dolohov’s heads snapped to the doorway. Draco was out of breath, holding his wand in a fighting stance.

“Get away from her!”

"Draco, it's good to see you looking so well," Dolohov said calmly. Draco’s nose flared in agitation. Sparks shot from the tip of his wand.

“He wants what you have. My protection.” Hermione murmured to Draco.

“Did you agree?” Draco demanded dangerously. Hermione raised her brow in question.

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“I am thinking about it.”

“You should throw him out on his arse," Draco growled, still pinning Dolohov with his ready wand.

“I know.”

“But you won’t.” He stated, already knowing her so very well.

“He promised to give himself up to the authorities after this is over.”

“Oh, well, if he promised.” Draco’s sarcasm dripped with disdain.

“I will make an unbreakable vow.” Dolohov murmured.

“No, you don’t get to do that. Don’t forget that I know you. I know why it has to be _her_.”

“I will not hurt her.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Draco glared at Dolohov, neither backing down. “I would never allow you close enough.”

“Draco, put your arm down and shut the door.” Narcissa glided into the room, not a hair out of place. She looked amazing even if her designer robes did hang on her emaciated frame.

“Mother,” Draco warned, not taking his eye off of the deadliest man in the room. He would go down to protect these two women. Especially these women. The most important women in his life.

“I made an unbreakable vow with Potter. Anyone who seeks redemption is to be saved. That includes everyone, even Dolohov. Antonin, if you are going to make your own vow to Hermione, you better do it now. Your voices were heard.”

Dolohov turned to Hermione with a blank look on his face. He was leaving his fate in her hands without making her feel guilty either way. On some deep level, she appreciated that.

“Dolohov, if you make me regret this, I will personally hunt you down.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”


	12. There, There Little Ducks

## Chapter Twelve: There, There Little Ducks

Hermione was standing in the mist, the light of pre-dawn just starting to break through the quiet landscape. She was watching Hogwarts gates from the relative comfort of her wards; the ones that she had used during the war with Voldemort. It was nearing the time when Cresswell said that he would be there for the changing of the guards and Hermione was on edge, hoping that she wasn’t walking into a nasty surprise.

A slight movement, a large black shadow, approached the gates. For a moment, she panicked. Death Eaters at Hogwarts was her first thought before she shook herself out of it. That was a different time, a different war. Once the two pops of apparition sounded through the valley, Hermione held her breath and left the safety of her spells.

“Miss Granger?” Cresswell whispered.

She materialized out of the shadows as if she were Snape’s apprentice. She was, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Bloody hell!” Cresswell exclaimed with surprise. “Give a bloke some warning next time. Step on a stick or crunch the gravel like a normal bloody person.” He complained.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She deadpanned.

He motioned into the shadows, bidding his own contingency of people to step out. In seconds, she was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, a wide smile on Seamus' face.

“Granger, a sight for sore eyes, I can tell you!”

The people were still streaming out of the shadows and Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I thought you were bringing me, two young girls and six prisoners. What's this?"

“This is my sister, Isolde. Cresswell’s sister is next to her with the blond hair, her name is Emily. The little girl holding her hand is Penny Marchbanks. The boy clutching the back of Penny’s cloak is Derek Flint and his brother, Frank, stands behind him. They are all children being targeted by the muggles. We need to give them a safe haven. The rest are your prisoners. Fifteen, straight off the trains.”

Hermione nodded her head, brows furrowed with deep thought.

“Seamus, why are you with the hunters?” Hermione asked. It didn’t add up. Seamus was a known Potter sympathizer and most of their allies for the war were against the pureblood hunting. If he was so against it, why was he participating?

“Someone needs to be on the inside the same way Snape was in the ranks of the Death Eaters.”

Ah. Another Snape admirer. She could commiserate.

“Are you comparing yourself to Snape?” she finally asked, holding her grin in check. She could just imagine Snape’s reaction to becoming a hero to Gryffindors everywhere.

“Perhaps.” He grinned. Hermione shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Trying to be a dashing spy? Fine. Who am I to burst your bubble.” She snickered at his protests before continuing. “I will be here at the same time next Thursday. If you have children for me, they also come with the agreed number of prisoners.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“The second I think anyone is going to turn traitor, I bail, and then I rain Armageddon on the traitors. I will offer no mercy, no quarter.”

“Understood.” Seamus pulled her a little away from the rest and lowered his voice. “Did Malfoy ever make it to you?”

She nodded and he chuckled.

“That sneaky bastard slides out of tight spots time and time again. I hate to be impressed with a Malfoy and a Slytherin to boot but there you are.”

“I’ll tell him that you send your salutations.” She grinned back at him.

They walked back to the group as Hermione summoned an old pool noodle from her earlier hideout.

“Portus.” She murmured making it glow blue for a moment. “Everyone a finger, please.” She made sure that the children were all connected and noticed that the prisoners were staring at her in unconcealed adoration. She looked back to the children. “Three, two, one.”

They were tugged into the disorienting pull of the portkey as it took them from the outskirts of Hogsmeade village to the inner ornamental gardens of Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa was standing in the center of the terrace surrounded by house elves. The Flint boys started to cry and ran to her, clutching at her robes. She was the only familiar face they had seen since their parents were taken and imprisoned in the camp at Redcar. Narcissa pulled them into her, a fierce maternal fire burned in her eyes as she glanced up and smiled at the girls. They were obviously afraid, having heard tales of the Malfoys. Narcissa’s smile started to falter as Hermione walked to the girls and squatted next to them.

“Isolde, Emily, and Penny, this is my good friend Narcissa. She is going to take care of you while you are here.”

"She is a bad guy," Penny whispered. “My daddy said all Malfoys can’t be trusted.”

“Do you know who I am?” Hermione asked her. She could feel the prisoners milling behind her. They were tired, hungry, and safe for the first time in months but they were trying to give the children time to adjust.

"Hermione Granger," Isolde said confidently. "You went to Hogwarts with Seamus."

“That’s right. Do you think I am a bad guy?”

The three girls shook their heads.

“Do you think you could trust me when I say that Narcissa is a good person and she will treat you very well?”

They nodded their heads. The Flint boys looked at the girls and smiled.

“Mrs. Cissy always gives us cookies after lunch if we are good. If you are nice to her, she will give you cookies too!” Derek leaned away from Narcissa and whispered loudly.

Isolde walked up to Narcissa and took her hand. She was stiff and trying very hard to be brave, her lower lip trembling. Hermione didn't blame them. It wasn't that long ago that these children were in hiding from another war. Soon, she would have Hannah Abbott there to help Narcissa with the children. Snape was sending her to the Manor next week. Eventually, they will be comfortable, but trust takes time.

Hermione watched as Narcissa led the kids into the house. The house elves had refurbished the whole second-floor family wing for the use of the children and those still to come. High voices peppered Narcissa all the way down the hall and it was the first real smile Hermione had seen on Narcissa’s face since she arrived.

Hermione turned around and looked at the men and woman from the trains. They were in slightly better condition than Narcissa and Blaise had been in when they came to the Manor. She looked from face to face, her heart lodged in her throat. She blinked rapidly, clearing the tears from her eyes.

“You have not been released by the hunters. The men that brought you to me are working with me to save as many innocent people as possible from the Muggle camps. The lines of war that were drawn before, are gone. We are no longer choosing sides between Dumbledore and Voldemort. It is much more complicated than that. We must come together and save each other despite once being enemies. We are all witches and wizards and we must protect our own. The Muggles fear us and abuse us. We are still humans and everyone deserves the right to life and everything that entails. It is what separates us from animals; our compassion.

Not everyone believed in the Statute of Secrecy but now that we don't have that safety net, we are hunted. Even some of our own people have turned against us. As powerful witches and wizards, we should have banned together in the beginning of this mess and protected the Muggle-born children. We as a nation and culture should have protected the innocent children who had no means to protect themselves. We are paying for our complacency now.

There is a resistance group fighting against those who would put us all in camps. They fight to free them even now. What we are doing here is no less important. I own this business and every time I hire someone, they go on a no-seize list. Those that are assiduously hunted, like the Malfoys, are kept under Polyjuice. They use aliases for protection. However, we have a new source of leniency. Every child that I take in and protect, three new names are put on a separate list. It is a list of prisoners that were released to me for a work program instead of going to the camps. You all have been added to Granger's List."

Hermione looked into the reverent faces of the prisoners and blushed. She watched as the House-elves led them into rooms, making sure they were cared for. Draco walked up behind her as the last wizard was led into the Manor. Once they were alone, he rubbed her arms and pulled her back into his chest. She snuggled into the warmth of his body, relaxing, knowing that Draco would take care of her.

“You are amazing, Hermione. I believe that I would follow you anywhere, woman. Especially, if you gave me inspirational speeches like that.” He turned her face to his and captured her lips, sliding his fingers into her hair, letting his thumbs caress her cheeks. Her heart jumped into her throat and heat pooled in her center. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and she wondered if she would have missed out on dating Draco if this war hadn’t happened.

Draco took a step back, letting his hands drop from her face and caressed her arms, threading her fingers with his own. Smiling, he tugged her into the manse after him.


	13. Survivors Guilt Part I

##  **Chapter Thirteen: Survivors Guilt Part I**

Blaise sat uncomfortably in the chair at Hermione's desk. He was fidgeting; something that had been disciplined out of him when he was just a boy. But sitting in front of Hermione Granger as she prepared his memories to be viewed, he couldn't help it. The memories were truly horrible, and it didn't and wouldn’t always show him in the best of light.

"Granger, things in the camp, they were untenable. People acted in ways that I still can't understand. Can this be kept between just you and me?"

"Blaise, I will not share anything that you do not give me expressed permission to. I understand about doing things that you aren't necessarily proud of during the war. I've been there. We all have."

He nodded his head and gulped, watching as Hermione poured in Narcissa's memories first.

"Do you want to watch them with me?" Hermione asked gently. Blaise paled, looking as if he was going to be sick.

"No."

"Alright."

Hermione gave him a tiny smile before pushing her face in the swirling liquid.

_Narcissa's eyes met Andromeda's from across the camp. They were both working on the communal latrines that they were forced to use in lieu of a bathroom. Teddy was picking up rocks from the trenches as Andromeda dug. She knew that the moment that Teddy became less useful in these chores that he would be sent off with the other children to be the subject of the Muggle’s experiments._

_At night, Narcissa and Andromeda kept the boy between them, feeding him extras out of their own rations. It couldn't be done long term, they both knew it, they would both starve before then._

_The night had seemed like any ordinary night until Andromeda leaned in to whisper in Narcissa's ear._ " _Keep watch of Teddy. I am meeting Harry Potter at one of the fences tonight. I need to tell him what is going on in here."_

_Narcissa's eyes widened in fear but nodded her head. They both knew that they couldn't survive these conditions much longer._

_By the time that Andromeda came back, Narcissa was nearly sick with worry. Teddy slept fitfully on her straw mattress. She bundled him close, her eyes sparkled in extreme terror in the moonlight and watched as Andromeda woke each woman that she passed. No one had to be told to be silent, they already knew._

_Once everyone was awake and watching Andromeda, she began addressing the group, ignoring the pleading eyes of her sister. The sisters were once divided, that was true, but now they stood shoulder to shoulder, supporting each other. That wouldn’t change now, just because things have gotten serious. Andromeda was firm in her belief that this war wouldn't go away while good men and woman sat on the sidelines not doing anything._

" _They think it is okay to treat us this way as if we weren't human. To them, we aren't even worthy of being animals and we never stand up against them. We bow our heads with fear and submission. By doing that we are telling them that we are exactly what they believe us to be, that we deserve to be treated as less. That starving us, beating us, and abusing our children is fine because we aren't like them, we are not human. But I breathe the way they do. I cry. I grieve and feel joy. Deep in my gut, I am outraged that I allow this, that I allow myself to be treated this way._

_How can I look my Grandson in the face ever again if he is taken to the experimentation wing? It burns a hole in my stomach, the guilt- it churns. They are not the only monsters here. We are too, because we won't even stand together to demand basic human dignity. What is the life of your child worth to you? Are you willing to die for it? You should be! All of us should be! Together we are strong. We are only weak because they tell us that is so, and we nod our heads and we agree._

_Even under the fierce rule of Voldemort, we were not this debased. We fought! We riled against their atrocities, but we are held by Muggles! Trapped in a camp warded by our own people! If we refused to be divided in our own culture this wouldn't have happened to us. We may be smaller in numbers, but we are great in pride. Harry Potter comes tonight to break us out. Will you still be here like the sheep the Muggles expect us to be?" Andromeda's whispered speech rang around the rough-hewn bunks, silence and hope met her determined face._

_Harry's name began circulating through all of the cabins. Once the savior of the wizarding world, always the savior of the wizarding world. Harry's name spread like wildfire and the guards, only hearing a name, did nothing to staunch the prisoner’s cries. Had they realized exactly what Harry meant to the wizarding world, they never would have allowed it to be uttered at all. They should have killed the offender at the first syllable._

_Lights began flickering, a great crash emanated from the center of camp and the prisoners ran to the door, rushing outside._

_Narcissa looked around in horror as the guards tried to douse the flames that licked the cabins closest to the fence with the large fire hoses they were so fond of using. An icy rain pelted her skin. Who knew that Hell would be doused in freezing rain as they burned? Narcissa held Teddy tight to her breast as she tried to locate her sister._

_Her arm was grabbed from behind and she shouted, a yell that was immediately lost in the mayhem of the moment. She turned around, fearing that she would have to fight a guard with Teddy in her arms. Blaise Zabini stood, unhealthily skinny, in front of her. His larger frame blocked the icy deluge that was shot at them. The Muggles keen on punishing their prisoners, wearing them down, humiliating them. Narcissa accepted his sacrifice for Teddy's sake. If they didn't escape, everyone who was hosed down would die. The freezing temperatures would ensure it._

_Narcissa lost sight of Andromeda as soon as she cleared the door to their prison bunks, but the shining beacon was the powerful duo who rushed to the defense of the prisoners. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley shredded the wards as more young wizards poured in the camp from the nearby woods._

_She wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but the prisoners stopped fighting and just made a run for it, leaving the saviors to battle on their own. Some to the forest and some of them to the buildings that housed the children. Blaise had towed them both back into the forest and met Lavender Brown getting ready to join the fray. She thrust an extra wand in his hands. They gushed their gratitude, but she couldn't spare them more than a smile. There were still hundreds trapped in camp, especially those that had children in the experimental wing. Narcissa understood. Who would abandon their children for their own freedom?_

_Blaise apparated them away to a small cabin hidden deep in the northern highlands. It was a safe house that his father built during the first war with Voldemort._

" _We will be safe here," Blaise said._

" _We can't stay, we have to go to the Manor."_

" _Tomorrow."_

" _Tomorrow." She agreed._


	14. Survivors Guilt Part II

## Chapter Fourteen: Survivors Guilt Part II

The memory changed, flowing into another. This one was Blaise’s; his circumstances were obviously much more dire than those of Narcissa, Andromeda, and Teddy.

_Blaise was forced to bend over a wooden horse, lash marks fresh and old had sunk deeply into his heavily scarred back. In spots, he was black and blue where he had begun to heal. It was tender, so naturally, that is where the whip was aimed and landed with precision. Whipping was obviously an art form. The bitterness was written across his face. Blaise was no stranger to discipline via whippings. It was, after all, the way his father had disciplined him growing up. It was that very reason that his mother had killed the bastard. One of the reasons he would always cherish his mother and forgive her constant black widow tendencies._

_His whole body sunk onto the simple device as the last lash cracked against his back. As the blow landed, he arched back, his arms restrained by friends; mates from Hogwarts, Nott and Bole. He was finished at long last. Fifty. He had never taken so many all at once before but couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision that put him over the Spanish Donkey. There was yelling and movement as somebody dragged his body away from the post and into the male barracks._

_“Why can’t you just shut up and do what they tell you. Next time, they will kill you.”  Theodore Nott whispered nervously._

_“Do you see what they are doing to those children?” He asked through clenched teeth. “Pansy’s sister is in there. They cut her open to watch her heal over and over. She has more scars than a fucking werewolf. It doesn’t matter that without potions or medical intervention she can’t heal faster than a muggle. They continue to slice into her day after day. She is only eight for Merlin’s sake.”_

_“Except the one time that she nearly died and her uncontrolled magic saved her.”_

_“Yeah, now they won’t stop. She is in constant agony. I’ll never forget her screams.”_

_“They keep you in the children’s wing to work because they know how much it hurts you. They want you to fly into a rage and show the world what you are magically capable of without a wand. They are sick.”_

_Blaise was on his stomach, Theo using a strip of grey cloth and a bit of clean water to try and wash the blood off of his back. Both men were startled as loud boots clanked on the floor and a contingent of soldiers marched in the barracks. In the center of the group stood a horribly abused Lucius Malfoy. Guns were aimed at his head as a length of wood was thrust into his hand. Lucius looked euphoric having finally connected with his magic again after so long a separation._

_“Heal the boy.” One of the guards said gruffly._

_Lucius walked towards the wooden pallet that Blaise was laying on and stood frozen for a moment looking at the web of split skin._

_“Merlin.” He whispered. His jaw tightened as every fear, every injustice, every crime against inhumanity solidified in his mind the rightness of his anti-muggle beliefs. Muggles were monsters and they deserve to be treated in the same way as they were currently treating wizards. Although, if truth be told, he wasn’t focused on Muggleborns any longer. He felt that if they were taken from the monsters that bred them at birth and fostered to a good pureblooded family, there would be a much better world._

_Quickly he sang Snape’s healing spell and watched as Blaise’s back knit back together, leaving only silvery ropes of scars that crisscrossed his back. On feet quicker than his abused body could seemingly take, Lucius had turned and obliviated the guards. The three prisoners were gruesome in their payback, not one guard left the men’s barracks intact. Lucius was well versed in all manner of torture and not just by magical means. The best and most cruel being Chinese water torture. It was almost too easy strapping the obliviated guards to the pallets. A piece of burlap was hung overhead as the prisoners poured small amounts of water on each at irregular intervals. The guards flinched every time a drop hit their face- the irregularity; maddening. Two hours was when the first guard broke, a silencing charm was his only reward._

_“Tonight,” Lucius muttered. “Tonight, we free the children.”_

Hermione watched as the memory faded and rolled into the next.

_Blaise, Lucius, and Theo were creeping along the experimentation wing as the murmurs of Potter’s name reached their ears._

_“That fucker. Still fucking alive and a pain in my arse.” Lucius muttered sullenly._

_The trio slipped inside the building silently, Lucius clearing their way with the only wand between them. The wards were weaker here in this part of the camp as the muggles wanted to see what circumstances a child could focus their powers before they are taught to use a wand. Through one of the windows in the first dormitory, they saw all hell break loose on the lawns. A flash of long blonde hair wove through the rioting magical population._

_Lucius pulled Blaise aside._

_“Get my wife back to the Manor. We will be fine here alone. Don’t worry. We won’t leave anyone behind.” Blaise clenched his jaw, watching as the men bid the group of older children to their feet and out behind them through the doorway. Blaise ran full out to get to the Malfoy Matriarch and put in an extra boost of speed when he saw the muggle guards dragging one of the fire hoses. It wouldn’t be the first time they soaked the inmates._

_Blaise made it just in time to pull Narcissa to him and keep the icy deluge off of her and the child that she was holding between them._

Hermione came back out from the pensieve and looked at Blaise who was sitting in the chair in front of her desk with a languor that contradicted his earlier confession of fear of her reaction.

“And you don’t think that I could have done worse? There is one thing I abhor and that is injustice and abuse of anyone but especially a child. I understand why you did what you did. You would not be the first person to fight back using their own methods against them.”

“Perhaps but what kind of man does that make me? That is not something I will tell my children with pride someday. I will go to my grave ashamed that I gave in to an act of vicious torture. I should never have crossed that line. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”


	15. Wind of Change

## Chapter Fifteen: Wind of Change

Dennis fumed, his hunters were all on their knees in front of him, heads bowed, waiting for him to mete out punishment.

“Who gave you the bloody authority to take my prisoners off the train for a work detail?” He yelled at Finnegan. Fear churned in his stomach over the possibility that the Redcar officials would demand more people or find some more children to experiment on.

Dennis looked around at the hunters and focused on Seamus and Dean. They stood still as statues waiting for him to lose it. Didn't they understand that he was just trying to keep the Muggle-born children safe?

 “Well?!” Dennis demanded.

“Hermione Granger needed some workers to do the jobs that paid employees didn’t want to do. This is the deal we made.” Seamus slowly explained to Dennis. Dennis narrowed his eyes. There was something that they were keeping from him.

“And Hermione just went along with this? Did she say something like, ‘Oh Seamus, I could really use a chain gang in my factory! I can’t imagine they would complain too much.’ Like Hell!”

“She has a bleeding heart. It made her happy to ‘save’ them. What do you think Granger would do if she truly entered into this war? How do you think that would end for us? There would be a lot of casualties on both sides.”

“If she could do so much for the war effort, why isn’t she on the front lines?”

“You will have to ask her that.”

“I intend to.” Dennis left the room without looking back. It was time to have a chat with Hermione Granger. The woman who already was proven a betrayer to the hunters. No, he couldn’t prove that her manager was Draco Malfoy, but he would stake his life that he was.

Dennis walked through the empty halls of the ministry, heading for the apparition point. His long legs eating up the floor quickly, lips quirked as he thought of Hermione. She was so tiny, she would no doubt have to run to keep up with him. He would slow down for her and thread his fingers around hers. He could imagine the grateful look on her face.

His mind went back to the staged bedroom and his lips thinned. What was she up to? He remembered the tiny knickers left in her drawer and blushed. He wanted to find out if they were truly hers or if they were part of the staging too. Maybe someday he would find out for himself.

The moment he stepped on the apparition point he twisted mid-step, squeezing into the tight tube of apparation before landing at the gates of Malfoy Manor.

**HGHG**

Hermione walked out of the Manor and into the garden. Her mind whirled with the memories she had just seen. Blaise was a mess, physically and mentally. Narcissa was rug sweeping and Teddy kept asking for Nana Dromeda. Narcissa kept them all confined to the family rooms with the other children. Even there in the safety of the Manor, their play was stilted and fearful. They dared not play outdoors or even outside of the suite of rooms they used. All it would take is one lost employee that isn’t strictly on their side and everyone would be in jeopardy.

She wandered through the enchanted paths, lightly caressing the hedges as she passed. The magical world needed to come together. Unity, despite blood disparity, was the only way that the wizarding world would come out of this alive.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt warm fingers slide into her left hand and twine with her own freezing appendages. Her brown eyes flew up, startled, to meet the warm gaze of Draco Malfoy.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, looking away from her and at the topiary around them. The corners of his mouth tilted up as he began to stroll down the pathway, tugging Hermione back into her lazy gait.

“I was thinking about Teddy and all the kids that are being deprived of a normal childhood because of our inability to protect them and everyone else.” Hermione murmured. Draco nodded and gave her hand a light squeeze. “I’m not sure how we are going to get out of this one. How did the Wizengamot enact the statute of secrecy when they first put it in place?”

“You do know that you have one of the most comprehensive libraries in Britain at your disposal, right?” He smirked slightly. He was proud and a touch arrogant. Hermione wasn’t the kind of girl that could be won over with impressive displays of wealth or privilege. The only thing that he had that would make her scream with excitement was the library. It was the cumulation of the last several generations of Malfoy book collectors. There were books in there that were so rare, the only copies were protected behind extensive layers of preservation spells.

“I don’t know why I always forget that I have access. It’s funny but I was always running to the library while in Hogwarts, knowing that whatever answer I needed was somewhere in one of those books. Now, I just feel as if it wouldn’t matter whether I found the right book or not, I wouldn’t be able to implement it anyway. How do you hide magic after the world has already heard of its existence? They even have proof; the inmates of Redcar.” Hermione shook her head worriedly.

“I don’t know. How did I go from being a pureblooded fanatic to the impressive man you see before you today?” His eyes glittered with repressed mirth. Hermione’s eyes shot to his with amusement. It was obvious that he was trying to lighten her mood, get her out of the slight depression that was weighing her down. She couldn’t give up, would never give up. Neither would he.

“You do have your moments.” She smiled, appreciating his effort to cheer her up.

“Ah… I can die a happy man. A compliment from Miss Hermione Gryffindor Granger herself.” Draco brought their twined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of hers.

“Don’t get used to it.” She smirked.

“You are so Slytherin it hurts.” Draco put their hands over his heart as if he had been stabbed. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to walk along the path. Towing him into motion this time, a stupid smile on his face.

“I was going to go into the ministry and fight for a better world for all of us.” She said.

“You still can.”

“The Ministry is dead. We have no government. Not anymore.”

"I disagree. Aren't we doing what they would do if they could? You are a much better Minister, and way more beautiful in my opinion."

“I should hope you think I’m prettier than Thicknesse because that would really be awkward.” She flippantly replied. Draco laughed, deep and unrestrained, for the first time in Merlin knew how long. She looked at him, mesmerized. He was truly a handsome man. “I like you like this, uninhibited. You never looked this happy in school.”

“Watching me, were you?” he raised a single golden brow with a look of teasing askance on his face.

"Well, Harry was quite obsessed with you at one point. It was all Malfoy this and Malfoy is up to something, that." Hermione said. Draco flinched as if she had just slapped him, guilt turning his face dark. His eyes hardened, and his smile fell away and he stared at the gravel path as they walked.

Hermione went on, wishing she hadn't brought it up. She didn't mean to hurt him. She decided to press on and finish her thought, hoping that it would soften her words. "We were all watching you. I noticed how sick, stressed, and afraid you were sixth year. You and Harry were the same. Both of you were out of control, dealing with situations that kids our age should never have been involved in. Had I thought It would have made a difference, I would have approached you and tried to help you despite our volatile past."

“I was horrible to you and yet, you would have approached me to help?”

“Yes.” She simply said.

“Why?” His voice was broken and raw, his eyes burned into her. They had stopped moving and Draco had stepped in front of her, bringing them face to face. His gaze was intense as he searched her face. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for but knew that he found whatever answer he required. It was disconcerting, the caution. He was always a self-assured and confident person, not this careful and apprehensive man she saw now. It took Hermione aback and her stomach fluttered with nervous adrenaline. She already knew he liked her. Hell, it was hard not to notice when they shared a bed but until that moment, they had kept things strictly platonic. Only holding and touching each other when the nightmares plagued them. She took a moment to consider carefully what she would say.

"Even though you knew exactly what buttons to push to infuriate me, sixth year, I could see the toll of whatever you were going through. I pitied you." Hermione stopped and looked down at her shoes before taking a deep breath and pushed on. "You have changed since then. You sought me out and not just because you had no other choice but because you believed I could save you, that I could change things. You have such amazing faith in me." She trailed off.

“You are everything that I was taught a muggle-born couldn’t be. You are the reason my views changed. It was your stubborn will and intelligence and loyalty. I was jealous you know,” he moved the rocks with the tip of his shoe, avoiding her gaze. “of Potter, of Weasley, of the damned library. Potter was the golden boy, Dumbledore’s undisputed favorite, seeker, famous and on top of all that he had you and Weasley as his loyal best friends. After the Yule Ball, I watched you when they made you cry. I wanted,” He paused and looked down at her. “I wanted to hold you, kiss away your tears, and tell you that they were being stupid. So, stupid. I was so bloody confused. I think that if the Dark Lord not been resurrected that year, I would have approached you by fifth.”

“I noticed that you stopped calling me a Mudblood around then.”

"I regretted it afterward, calling you that. I told my father that summer after second year of what I had said to you and that I was ashamed. I regretted that too.” He said with a derisive twist of his lips. “That was the last time I shared my feelings with my father. I knew I wasn’t allowed to talk about you at home unless it was derogatory after that and I was too immature to just stop. It was expected of me. It became necessary to keep everything I thought about you to myself once I realized that I had feelings for you, especially once Aunt Bella was back. It would have put you in even more danger. Aunt Bella would have never allowed even the thought to go without punishment- for you and me. I had a role to play in order to keep you safe from them. Well, as safe as a muggle-born could be.” He qualified.

“Things would have been so different between us without the blood issue. Had you not been a bastard in our first year, we could have been friends, you know. I admired you at first. You were so smart and handsome and then you opened your mouth.”

 “You think I am handsome?” Draco smiled, slow and wolfish.

“And you think I’m prettier than Thicknesse.” Hermione met his amused gaze with her own. He inched closer, his eyes darkening and his intent clear. He paused inches away, his eyes glued to her lips.

“Definitely prettier than Thicknesse.” He murmured leaning ever closer. Hermione was dizzy with excitement. Her heart began to pound. His scent wrapped around her, pulling her closer as if they were both magnets. She could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. She tipped her head just right, watching him close the distance between them.

His lips covered hers and her heart raced. He was solid against her, slowly drawing her closer into his embrace. Gliding his hands up her arms, he slowly wrapped his fingers around them. His grip tightened as Hermione deepened the kiss. He captured her bottom lip and lightly sucked. She melted into his arms. It wasn’t enough. Taking a deep breath as he pulled back a little, she leaned in and licked his bottom lip. A low moan rumbled out of him. Smiling in feminine satisfaction, she lifted her hands to bury her fingers in the blond hair at the nape of his neck.

“Hermione, are you out here?” Narcissa’s clear voice rang out. Both Draco and Hermione jumped apart, disappointment clouded his face. They stepped away from each other quickly and awkwardly shifted as Narcissa came into view. Narcissa looked between the two with a positively gleeful look and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “The hunter Creevey is here. He just passed the gate.”

"Thank you, Narcissa. I'll take him to the library that I've recently been reminded of. That way he can't watch our people and he can have some privacy while I yell at him."

“Blaise and I will be there if you need any help.” Draco murmured as he slid his hand onto Hermione’s lower back. His thumb traced circles absently, distracting Hermione from her thoughts. Everywhere his hands touched, burned exquisitely.

“Don’t forget the polyjuice. Merlin knows we don’t need him spotting you.” She murmured breathlessly.

“Of course.” He whispered as he pulled her under his arm. Both followed his mother back to the house. As they stepped up to the door, Draco pulled away and reached into his pocket and extracted a small vial already infused with Riddle’s dry and brittle hair. Draco grimaced, opting to down the dose in one gulp, throwing it to the back of his throat, hoping to minimize the taste. Tom Riddle tasted disgusting.

Draco changed in front of her eyes and she shuddered. She really hated his disguise and couldn’t wait for the moment it would wear off. Hermione nodded at Narcissa and left the both of them standing outside. She wanted to confront Dennis as soon as possible, intending to put the fear of Merlin into one, Dennis Creevey.


	16. The Ugly Truth

## Chapter Sixteen: The Ugly Truth

By the time Dennis made it to the foyer, Hermione was already waiting by the stairs and looking in his direction. He smirked, studying her lovely form.

“Dennis, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Hermione asked drily. He could never tell if it was genuine or sarcasm when she asked him that.

“Lovely as ever, Hermione,” Dennis made as if to bring her hand to his lips, but she pulled away from him smoothly and he couldn’t tell if this was a slight or not. He ground his teeth together. He knew very well that it was. “I have a few questions about your prisoner list. Do you have somewhere quiet we can talk?”

“Follow me.” She said before turning away. A large man who was vaguely familiar was openly watching him, distrust plain on his face.

“Who is that dark guy? He looks dangerous.” Dennis gestured to a man across the hall. The man had begun to move, his eyes focused on Dennis.

Hermione looked around and saw Antonin Dolohov zero in on Dennis and smirked. She caught his eye and shook her head minutely. Dolohov stopped dead in his tracks, his brown eyes following the pair with an unnerving intensity.

“Gustave? Nah. He’s a good guy, you just have to understand that he is very shy. Also, he makes the most amazing fruit tarts.”

“Fruit tarts, huh?”

“Yup.” She said over her shoulder before stopping in front of a large set of double doors. She opened one of them and walked into the famous Malfoy library.

“Wow!” Dennis said looking around.

“I know, right?!” Hermione said agreeably. She looked around and noticed Draco in his Tom Riddle disguise sitting at a table with Blaise in the back.

She chose a table that would hide their observers from their guest and indicated that Dennis should take a seat.

“You wanted to talk to me about the lists? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t believe for a moment that you are using them as slaves. I think I know you better than that,” Dennis accused. Hermione watched Draco clench his fist out of the corner of her eye.

“You are right.”

“I am?” He was flabbergasted. He never expected her to own up to it, let alone without a fight.

“What if that was Colin on one of those trains. How could you sleep at night knowing that someone you love is being contained by muggles that are experimenting on our people?”

"Those that are being sent, are pureblooded. Besides If I stopped sending them, the muggles would hunt the Muggle-born children again. I think this is by far the better option."

“How dare you! Ginny Weasley is a pureblood and she fought side by side with Colin, as did Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and many others! Mrs. Weasley, who was taken to Redcar at the same time as Ginny, even killed Bellatrix Lestrange! They are heroes and this is how you repay them?" Hermione yelled. Dennis winced. "Did it ever occur to you that we could and would find a better way to protect the Muggle-borns. Did you think that I wouldn’t consider it important?”

“I wasn’t around when the Weasleys were taken. By the time I got there, they were already at Redcar and the Muggles wouldn’t release them. That was not my fault! And I didn’t see anyone else step up to save the few small children I pulled from Redcar in the beginning. I gathered men and made a deal with the muggles. Deplorable as it was, someone had to save them, even if I damned my own soul in the process.”

“Oh, well, you did everything you could, I am sure.”

“Hermione,”

“Listen to me Dennis, you need to think long and hard about what kind of person you are becoming. You need to help me free the magical population from Redcar and the muggles. Snape has been rescuing the kids that appear on the magical register and it would be much easier if you were helping instead of hindering. We don’t have to sacrifice anyone.”

“The Death Eaters deserve to be in that camp.”

"Are you sure about that? Do you even know what it is like in one of those camps, the conditions they suffer? I would venture to say that no one deserves that. I know you were not happy with the Death Eater trials. Do you think that Harry, Ron, and I would let off the people who tried to kill us for years for no reason? Don't kid yourself. You may have been at the final battle but you were not privy to all the information. Harry, Ron, and I are the only reason the Malfoys were released. Testimony was given, not just of our words but our memories as well. Those trials were fair. You need to be man enough to realize your mistake."

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Isn’t it?”

They stared at each other, both stubborn and unyielding.

"Keep your bloody list, Hermione, for now." He stood and left the library, leaving Hermione slack-jawed with surprise.

“Did I win?” She asked turning to Draco and Blaise.

"I think you did," Blaise said, looking at Hermione as if he had never seen her before. "Were you always this beautiful, Mio Caro?”

“Blaise,” Draco warned.

“Don’t worry, Draco, I just want to admire that look for a moment longer.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We need to talk," Draco said to Hermione. "Tonight."

“Then I will see you in bed after dinner.” She smiled at him and chuckled as she caught sight of Blaise. He looked dumbfounded. Blaise turned to Draco.

“You’re sleeping with Granger?”

"Shut up," Draco muttered.

“That’s a no then.” Blaise laughed as Hermione left the room.

 


	17. Usurper

## Chapter Seventeen: Usurper

Draco paced their room like a man waiting for battle. He wasn’t happy that the hunters were watching Hermione closely enough to know what she had been up to. There was a terrible feeling in his stomach as if one false step would make their whole operation crumble. He felt sick.

Hermione finally left the bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair dried and smoothed magically. He was struck dumb as he was most nights that he watched her get ready for bed. She was the most enchanting woman he had ever met. He clenched his jaw and looked away. He needed to stand his ground this time and he knew that he couldn’t afford to lose his train of thought just because he was thinking dirty thoughts. Like the way his hands would feel on her hips as he lowered his mouth to her neck. Among other things.

When she began sleeping in his room, he thought that something more would develop between them. Although they snuggled and lent each other support while listening to each other’s woes and stories. They were developing an intimacy that would be envied by most of the eligible bachelors in the wizarding world that wanted a piece of Granger.

There were only a few passionate kisses shared between them but no petting and absolutely no shenanigans. He still got the breath knocked out of him every time he woke up and saw her next to him, more often than not wrapped around him with her head on his chest.  He was a lucky man, despite the sneaky hair attacks in the dead of night.

“Are you okay, Draco?” Hermione asked in concern, raising a hand to cup his face. He let out a strangled moan and pulled her into him, burying his face in her hair.

“No. I have this horrible feeling that something is going to happen to you. I am afraid that one day, they will come for you and I won’t be able to do anything to stop it. I will be powerless, just like last time.”

“I will be fine.”

“What if…”

“Draco,” She cut him off. “I am safe. I am with you and we are both safe.”

She leaned in and molded her lips around his. His breath caught, and his heart began to pound as if he were running a marathon. He lifted his arms and wound one of them around her waist, the other in her curly hair. Her tiny hands were maddening, slowly caressing his chest and when she made that noise in her throat, he was a goner.

Was there anything that could actually compare to the feeling of this witch in his arms, to her soft lips, to the way she said his name as if it were a prayer? She moaned as his tongue flicked her bottom lip in a bid to deepen this kiss. Her floral scent surrounded him; he was drunk on the flavor of this woman. Draco walked backward as she pushed him towards the bed. Who was he to stand in the way of what this woman wanted? He would give her everything.

When the bed hit the back of his knees, he sat down and pulled Hermione onto his lap. She cradled his face in her hands as she leaned away, a smile on her lips. He stared at the plump swollen redness that her lips had become and wondered if he could get away with kissing her again. He couldn't take his eyes from them. The way they felt against his was nothing short of earth-shattering. He wanted to hear the way she might suck air in surprise as he dove in for more. Instead, he froze and looked away. This was madness. How is it that he was so gone, so wrapped around her small finger that he couldn't even think?

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Hermione asked, hands still caressing his face. He took a breath and centered himself, using every ounce of Occlumency that he had ever been taught. He needed to focus.

“I had an idea about the Muggles as you were trying to beat some sense into Creevey’s head.”

“Oh yeah?”

He reached up and wrapped his hands around her tiny wrists. For a second, he marveled at just how small she really was. It just figured that the most terrifying and powerful person he knew was a tiny woman like her. He pulled her hands from his face and looked into her eyes. He couldn’t think when she held him like that. The way she touched him put ideas in his head, ideas they didn’t have the time to explore at the moment.

“I think it is time that we visit the Muggle Prime Minister.”

She raised her brows.

“How will that solve anything?”

“I have been talking to your workers, the Muggleborns, and they have told me some interesting things about Muggle culture. I want the Muggles to admit that this was a horrible misunderstanding fueled by a malicious hoax.”

Hermione thought about it for a moment. It’s not like they could obliviate on a large scale, could they? She gasped and stared into space. She had her typical lightbulb epiphany; the one that drove her to seek out the library.

“Draco,” She breathed. “You are utterly brilliant, amazing, fantastical!” She dropped kisses all over his face before laughingly bounding off his lap and out of their room. Draco followed her, a curious bemusement on his face. She had gone straight to the library, to the history section.

“Draco, I need to send a letter. Can you get me an owl?” She asked while loading her arms with magical texts and setting them on the table, opening them to various pages as if she already knew what she was looking for but just needed confirmation.

“Your wish is my command.” He said with a small bow. There was nothing quite like being usurped by a library for a witch’s attention. Since it was Hermione, he was willing to overlook the slight. Draco left, observing that she was elbow deep in the books scattered around her. He noted with no small surprise that she was in the history books; specifically, New York, 1926.


	18. Decisions

## Chapter Eighteen: Decisions

Dennis sat at one of the desks and propped his booted feet up, his mind elsewhere as he thought about the conversation he had had with Hermione. Colin. He winced. Colin who had a hero worship for Potter and the ideals that he lived up to. _He_ wouldn’t have agreed with this, the hunters. It had been Colin, not Dennis, that kept the two of them safe while on the run.

Dennis remembered the last year of the war and grimaced. When the Muggle-born registration committee had knocked on their door only months after Dumbledore had died, the boys were forced to flee. On the run and starving, they still were able to connect with some of the DA members all the while avoiding the Snatchers. It was Colin who went back to Hogwarts for the final battle, despite knowing that his adversaries were grown wizards and they were more powerful than him. He faced the possibility of his death fearlessly, believing that the cause was important enough to die for. It was immaterial that Dennis had followed him into the school. The only thing that mattered, in the end, was that Colin was dead and Dennis became the leader of the hunters. What a way to repay his brother for the hard-won year of safety.

He looked around the room. Some of his men used to be the very Snatchers they avoided and at times, dueled. The moment they felt the winds of change, their whole demeanor changed. They went from being Snatchers to Hunters seamlessly. What did that say about his organization? He knew that it had turned into something much darker than he meant it to. In the beginning, he had just wanted to save those Muggleborn children who had no protection. He wanted to be the hero. Instead, he became little more than a mob boss. Colin would be so disappointed.

Also, he thought with derision, Hermione was clearly not impressed with him. He wasn’t the type to say it out loud, but her opinion had mattered a lot to him. For months now, he had been laboring under the delusion that she was being shy, that they were going slow, that he had a chance, that perhaps she felt something for him too. It was no secret to any of his hunters that he had a huge crush on the witch and it had gone from something innocent to something slightly obsessive. But he knew that she wouldn’t be impressed with that at all.

If he was ever going to get a chance with her, things had to change. He was man enough to look at what the wizarding world had been reduced to and was repulsed. He helped create this; was not a savior- wasn’t even in the resistance. Th mere thought of him fueled the nightmares of his own people.

He was a traitor to everything his brother had fought for, everything he had fought for during the last war. He gnashed his teeth with frustration. Hermione was definitely not impressed and never would be.

“We are going to destroy Redcar, and make sure all of the inmates are released.” He said suddenly, waiting for the derision of his men. Every person that was sent to Redcar was placed there by their own hands except a few of the children from the beginning. Children that he didn’t even know whether they were still alive or not.

“It’s about bloody time!” Seamus Finnegan said with a smirk.

"First, we need a plan of attack," Dennis muttered.

"Done!" Seamus said as he swept the tabletop clean with his forearm, letting the parchments and various objects fall to the floor in a huge mess. He moved closer to the table and pulled a large roll of parchment out of his robes and began unfurling it, setting small paperweights around the edges to hold the paper down. He pushed Dennis' boots off the table with a devilish smirk.

“What the hell?” Dennis demanded.

“Cresswell and I have been working with Hermione for months to save people from that camp. She’s an incredible woman that one…” He trailed off, staring off into space. Dennis snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“Focus.”

“Right. Well, we need to have three groups. Whatever wards they have, must come down. Alicia Spinet and Bill Weasley will join us. Together they will take down the wards. Then, Cresswell and his group will need to go in first and liberate the children from that house of terror. That needs to be done quickly and efficiently. We can’t have the guards lock down that building and make it harder for us to ensure their safety. Also, we have two men inside, Theo Nott and Lucius Malfoy. They have been in there for days holding off any experimentation of the children at a great personal cost. I doubt they will be able to leave on their own steam. Two men need to apparate them to Hermione at the Manor.”

“I’ll do it.” Cresswell offered.

“And me.” Dean Thomas stood in the doorway, his boots muddy and his clothes a wreck.

“Did you find out where they are keeping them?” Seamus asked him.

“The main building where the guards sleep. Other than that, you know as much as I do.” Dean shrugged. With a nod, he turned back to the parchment on the table.

"Alright! The second group will be led by me, which will be called the main force. We are going in and shutting the whole thing down. We are the main battle that will help distract the other guards. We will enter here and here." He gestured to the blueprints of Redcar. "The last group led by Dennis will be a small strike force. Harry and Ron are being held in the main building. Here.” He stabbed a small rectangular building with his finger. “I don’t know where or what level. That is your job. Find our heroes and get them out. All survivors can be taken to Malfoy Manor if they want or they can go home. Whatever. Medical attention can be found at the Manor. Any questions.”

“Just one,” Dennis said, staring at the two men who obviously have been working on this for a long time. “When do we go.”

“At Dawn.”

 


	19. Number Ten

## Chapter Nineteen: Number Ten

Hermione smoothed her hand down the tweed skirt and matching jacket. Her hair was perfect for once, not a single curl out of place. It had taken Narcissa hours and she had to use every spell in her repertoire, a whole bottle of Sleekeazy’s, magic, and too many hairpins to count. In the end, Hermione finally looked like a woman to be taken seriously, a person of consequence.

Narcissa had left with a sweetly whispered ‘good luck’ in her ear and Hermione turned to look at Draco who had been watching her from where he was leaning against the marble fireplace.

“Wish me luck,” She murmured nervously. Draco walked up behind her and pulled her body back into his. He met her gaze in the mirror and made a show of appreciating the view, from head to toe. With a smile, he rested his chin in the cradle of her neck and shoulder and dropped little kisses on her neck that made her melt. She leaned into him enjoying the way he touched her.

“I don’t like it. I don’t think you should go alone.” He murmured between kisses, ignoring their reflection.

“I can’t take anyone else with me. I need to appear as a force of nature and I can’t explain away a bodyguard. The idea is to show them that I am too powerful to fight against. It loses the effect if I bring hired muscle.”

“I could come, as your boyfriend.”

“You are being hunted by the muggles more than anyone. The hunters gave over your information, a picture, everything. You can’t walk in there with me and come back out a free man.”

“I could use Polyjuice.”

“I can’t pretend that Tom Riddle is my boyfriend.” She said with a shudder.

“I’ll go as anyone you want.”

“I need to go alone.”

“What if something happens to you.” He whispered fearfully.

“Then you will have to find and save my sorry arse. It is, after all, the least you could do after I pulled you off of the Hogwarts Express and out of Dennis’ clutches.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He said as he pressed his lips to her shoulder one last time. “Be safe.”

She smiled at his reflection and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lightly stubbled face against the sensitive skin of her shoulder. She stood for a moment longer, not really wanting to go but desperately needing to, before stepping out of his grasp. On the way out of the room, she picked up her small bag from the table, Draco’s fingers threaded with her free hand on the way out.

Walking through the manse was an exercise in perfecting her poker face. All of the workers of Malfoy Manor murmured their hope for her success as she passed and watched as she walked to the gate and disentangled her hand from Draco’s. With one last look at the man who once was an enemy but was now so much more, Hermione twisted on the balls of her feet with determination. She would not let the world continue to collapse. It was high time someone made a political move against the Muggles.

Hermione appeared in the atrium of Number Ten, Downing St causing guards and workers alike to panic. Guns and security surrounded her, but she ignored them, seemingly unperturbed.

“I want to see the Prime Minister right now,” Hermione said, appearing supremely unaffected by their weapons in her face. Not that any of them could hurt her. The moment she landed, she had erected a strong protection shield to envelop her in a bubble.

“And who are you?” One particularly built security guard demanded.

“I am Hermione Granger the new Minister of Magic. If you do not take me to the Prime Minister, I will find him on my own but if I am forced to blast my way through this whole building, I will not be in a very forgiving mood.” Hermione stood, chin high, haughty and a fierce expression that dared anyone to go against her.

For a moment, everyone was frozen in a stalemate and then the clicking of heels on the floor grew closer and louder. Hermione turned her head to look at the new arrival, a dark-haired and perfectly coiffed woman with a fake friendly smile.

“Right this way, Minister.” More smiles and white teeth, but Hermione would not back down now. Not for the fake kindness of this woman nor the guns still pointed at her head.

“Thank you.”  Hermione walked behind the woman and kept a constant scan around her and pretended to be unaffected by her surroundings. She could not afford to be taken hostage. The only way to leave alive was to be so powerful that they dared not touch her. Despite being the Minister of Magic only because she said so. It was not actually true, but they didn’t know that.

She was led into a room that she had learned about while growing up. Her parents were very patriotic, and she had been told of the powerhouses, Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher. It was a truly remarkable moment to be standing in this office. Not that she showed it.

“Have a seat,” The Prime Minister gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “How can I help you?” He folded his hands together and sat back as if she were merely there for a social call. She raised her chin. That’s how he wanted to play it? So be it.

“Redcar is a crime against humanity. Have it shut down.” The best way to go about things in her mind was to be blunt and get to the heart of the matter.

“No. My people are scared. They want assurances.” He smiled at her as if nothing pressing was being discussed.

“ _Your_ people are scared? There are children that are afraid that a sneeze or a cough will end in uncontrollable magic that would send them and their families to their deaths. No, Minister. You are going to have to come up with a much better excuse than that.”

“I don’t have to give you an excuse. We are not shutting down the camp. In fact, we may open a second.”

“Do that and your people will be slaughtered because mine will no longer sit back and hand you victims.”

“Is that a threat?” He asked, leaning forward and dropped every hint of indolence. Hermione smiled beautifully, sweetly, and raised her hand to inspect her fingernails.

“Yes. I am glad you understood so quickly.”

“Guards!” He yelled but nothing happened.

“I’ve put silencing charms all over this room from the moment I stepped foot inside. It’s just you and me now, Minister.” He turned purple and the vein on his neck started to pulse. The angrier he got, the more amused Hermione was.

“If I shut down Redcar, I will be called a traitor to England, to my people.”

“We live in the U.K. too. We are also citizens even if we belong to the magical side of things.”

“I will be flayed.” He was in a full-blown panic.

“What if I told you I have a solution?” another sweet smile. She could tell that her smiles were starting to make him afraid. Very afraid.

“What is it?”

“In New York City, 1926, there was a magical parasite called an obscurus that grew in strength and eventually the non-magical community found out about magic. The MACUSA used the combination of the thunderbird and the venom of the swooping evil to obliviate the city. Here is what I propose. We will use the same method to cover this up.”

“The whole world knows. Are you going to Obliviate them too?”

“They know nothing. They have heard things, rumors. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this was breaking news only to revealed as a hoax. Let my people go, then we will release the obliviate into the air and water. Once the entire country had been obliviated, you can release a statement that it was all an elaborate ruse.”

“A ruse?” He asked stupidly.

“I want to take away all the memories of actual magic from non-magical people and claim that it was all a hoax.”

“And this has been done before? It’s safe?” He asked.

“Yes.” Hermione’s conscience twanged with the small lie. It had been done before but not to this degree. Only New York City had been affected in 1926, not a whole country.

“That is all we have really wanted from the beginning. This whole mess could have been avoided if you were able to control your people better. We just want to go back to the way things were. How soon can we carry this out?”

“I have an expert traveling into London tomorrow. He will be overseeing the whole process.”

“Excellent. Is there anything else?”

“You will not be obliviated. There must always communication between the Ministers. If we are both incredibly lucky, we will never see each other again.”

“Thank God.”

“I will see myself out, Minister,” Hermione smirked and held out her hand. Trembling, he took her hand between his own and nodded. She smoothed her dress and smiled at him, noticing that he flinched at the sight. Good. Maybe his reticence will stop further wars and death.

“And if there is a problem with your plan?”

“Ask the paintings to schedule a meeting with Hermione, the Minister of Magic.” Hermione flicked her wand, canceled the wards, and disapparated back to safety. Or more importantly, Draco’s arms.


	20. The Fall of Redcar

## Chapter Twenty: The Fall of Redcar

It was nearly dawn and the entire force of the hunters sat quietly on their haunches as they waited for the signal to invade the camp from their leaders. Finnegan waited in the frosted grass and stared at the compound intently, waiting for something, a predetermined signal.

Having seen whatever it was that they were waiting for, Finnegan motioned for Cresswell and his crew to get to the fence. Finnegan had split his force into two. The only thing that remained was for Spinet and Weasley to take down the wards. It didn’t take the duo long before they turned with triumphant expressions. They joined Dennis’ crew, intending on helping find Harry and Ron.

"This set of wards was built to be brought down. Dolohov may have been a Death Eater, he may have bargained his release, but I know that if he had wanted to put upwards that would keep out an army, he would have." Bill said quietly as they watched Cresswell’s group enter the large building that housed the children. Every alarm was silenced, every footfall was muffled, every guard was stunned and obliviated. It was almost too easy.

They went from room to room, liberating the inmates, carrying the children that were unable to walk. Some were healthy and had obviously been treated well but most bore signs of abuse. The children were only given the bare essentials for their needs. One room consisted only of children who were starved to see if they could conjure food. One room held three living children and nine cadavers- their dead parents and three other children. The look in the eyes of those children was truly frightening. There was a detached insanity that flowed out of the kids that would unnerve even the most hardened of criminals. Cresswell had three guards take the children immediately to St. Mungo's, the only magical hospital still operational in Britain. The only place that could simultaneously treat them and restrain them. Their minds had been irreparably broken. Dirk shuddered in revulsion. Who would lock children up in a room with their dead parents or with any dead bodies for that matter? What kind of monsters were these people?

The further they infiltrated the building the worse it got. It was the expression on the Hunters faces that had the last of the guards screaming in terror. Not one muggle that experimented on the children was taken alive. One of the last rooms they came to, held only one of the two adult wizards that were still alive in the whole place.

Lucius Malfoy was a mess. He was standing naked in the center of the room, his wrists bound behind his back and his elbows attached to a rope that was secured to the ceiling. It was obvious he was in great pain. His shoulders were grotesquely pulled out of socket, the skin deeply bruised. There were cuts all over his body. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the other was streaming red rivulets. Tears of blood or puss. Dirk couldn’t tell from his vantage point.

With a wave of Cresswell’s wand, Lucius was released from his bonds. The moment he was free, he slumped to the floor, finally passing out after Merlin knows how long. Dirk knew he didn’t have enough skill to treat Lucius’ more serious wounds and passed him off to Dean Thomas. For a moment, the two wizards looked at each other grimly. It was worse than they had feared. He used his teeth to uncork one of the healing potions that he carried with him and forced it between Lucius’ lips, hoping that it wouldn’t cause complications to his dislocated shoulders.

“Take him to Hermione. St. Mungos won’t treat him because he was a Death Eater.” Cresswell murmured. With a crack, Thomas and Malfoy were gone.

He took a second to gather himself before moving on to the next room, hoping that he wouldn’t find Nott’s corpse surrounded by a bunch of scarred children.

The moment he opened the door, he regretted it. Nott was laid out naked on a cold metal operating table. The flat kind, with restraints. One of the muggle scientists that was in charge of most of the experiments that went on in that hell hole, was leaning over Theo. Theo's face was contorted into one of horror, a silent scream frozen on his face. His eyes were wide as he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. His whole body was rigid as if rigor mortis had already set in. Cresswell panicked. Hoping that Theo was in fact still alive. He turned his attention to the doctor, who had a small curved knife in his hand and long thin strips of Theo’s skin were laid over racks to his left. Nearly all of the skin of his left leg had been flayed, from his hip to his toes.

Cresswell motioned for his team to take care of the muggle as he cast diagnostics. He had never been so glad to see the blue spark that indicated life. Theo’s body had just frozen with the shock to his system. He realized how messed up it was to be relieved that eighteen-year-old Theodore Nott was merely in shock from his wounds. He gathered Theo into his arms, waiting only long enough to pour a vial of healing potion down his throat.

“Murray, grab the rack of skin and take them to Hermione at Malfoy Manor. I will take Theo personally.”

When he apparated to Malfoy Manor, it was in complete chaos. He yelled for Hermione, forcing Murray to keep close. He didn’t know if Hermione would need the skin that was ripped from Theo’s body. He hoped regardless that she would be able to fix him.

“Here!” Hermione yelled, waving at them over the milling people.

Quickly they set Theo down on a cot and Hermione began to work on him. Narcissa was standing behind her, trembling as she healed Lucius’ minor cuts. A healer that was given sanctuary by Hermione was working on his shoulders’ displacement.

“You should have told us to prepare for so many hurt people! We would have set more up, been more prepared if we had known you were going to shut Redcar down today.” Hermione admonished.

“I realize that now. Do you need his skin?” He asked her. She shook her head as she forced a pain potion down Theo’s throat. Cresswell turned to Murray. “Get rid of it but for the love of everything good, do not burn it.” Murray nodded before apparating both himself and the skin elsewhere.

"I will never know how someone could do this to another person," Hermione whispered furious tears on her cheeks.

“Nor I. Even Voldemort did not commit these atrocities. Don’t get me wrong he was horrible, did terrible things, tortured, killed and maimed but this… this was a whole new level of evil.”

 


	21. Aftermath

## Chapter Twenty-One: Aftermath

Finnegan waited only long enough to make sure that most of the building that Cresswell was in had been swept through. With a hand signal to Dennis, he took his two teams into the main camp of Redcar. One force held the line on the green and the other freed the prisoners from the barracks. Their job was to draw out as many of the guards as possible so that Dennis’ crew could search for Harry and Ron without worry of being spotted. It wouldn’t take much to incapacitate them, sure, but the guards had two-way radios that were instant communicators. Seamus knew that they couldn’t afford anyone to be evacuated and sent to a different place. Everyone was held at this camp. There were no other camps but that could change at any time.

They sent the freed prisoners to Hermione and most didn’t even flinch at the destination. It was a new psyche that the wizarding world shared. Wizards against Muggles. Together, they would stand united for the first time in recent memory. The Pureblooded stood with Muggleborns to hold the lines against the fearful muggles. Fear could make people do unspeakable things and they couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Finnegan watched the lines like a hawk. He was only waiting for the all clear, the indicator that there was no longer one drop of magical blood still living in the camp. Dennis sent golden sparks in the air as they pulled Harry and Ron from the building. It didn't take them long. They must have been just put in a magical retardant cell without their wands. It could have been so much worse. 

He allowed the guards swift deaths as the remaining prisoners tore down the fences that surrounded the camp. It was their visible stand for freedom. They told the world that they could no longer keep them. They tore down the fence without magic, without tools. Hands were scraped and bloody by the end and it signaled the dawn of a new era for the wizarding world.

 Every single person knew there wouldn’t be trials. The magical world couldn’t afford the notoriety. That didn’t mean they let off the offenders. No. They just made sure that everyone who took part in the torture that went on in the camp was paid back in kind. No one was left alive.

Those that had wands offered to apparate those that didn’t to the Manor and there were very few that didn’t take up the offer of food, safety, and showers.

When Finnegan walked through the gates of Malfoy Manor, he visibly relaxed. His hand rubbed his face as he found the small group of people who surrounded the prisoners that needed the most urgent medical care.

“Everybody, move back!” Hermione yelled. Finnegan watched with raised brows as Dolohov stood between Hermione and the crowd of people, giving her a decent sized bubble to work in. Even now, knowing that he was protecting Hermione, he was still a scary bastard. She moved from Theo and Lucius to Molly and Ginevra who were both severely malnourished but otherwise fine. They kept telling Hermione to concentrate on the people who actually needed it and vowed that they would be right as rain with some food. Hermione had the House-elves tend to the Weasleys and refocused on Theo's leg.

Harry and Ron walked up to him and clapped him on the back.

"Well done, mate," Harry said solemnly. His face was bruised, and he was favoriting his right leg but otherwise seemed to be unharmed. Ron looked slightly worse, his face had been cut open with some kind of ring, dried blood flaked off of his neck.

Seamus couldn’t voice his agreement, he could only nod as he saw the state of the two most abused wizards, Lucius and Theo. He turned slightly green as he realized what the wounds that Hermione was healing meant.

Cresswell came up behind them and pulled them into an empty room not far from where Hermione was diligently working on Theo and Lucius.

“There were three children that we sent directly to St. Mungos. I don’t think there is anything that can be done to save them. They were completely broken by the time we got to them.”

“What happened to them?” Harry whispered.

“You do not want to know. I will never get rid of the nightmare that scene will forever create.” Cresswell shuddered and held his stomach, his eyes losing focus for a minute as he was dragged back into that room, his eyes staring into the dead madness that lurked just under the surface of the children’s gazes. He could feel the vomit in his mouth.

“How are we going to protect all of the Muggleborn children from this happening ever again?” Cresswell asked.

The door opened smoothly, and the group watched as Draco Malfoy walked in somberly. He nodded silently at Harry and Ron before turning to Cresswell.

“Snape has been taking the children five and under and keeping them at the castle. He has a whole slew of people babysitting them. Never thought I would see the day that tiny tots were mad for Snape. He seems to be good with them too. I have an idea on how we should proceed but I don’t think it should come from me. I don’t think a lot of people are going to like it.”

“What is it?” Harry asked. There was just something about the horrors of this war that tore down the petty walls of their schoolyard rivalry.

“I think the Muggleborns should be placed with magical families from birth. If they are on the magical registry, they should be re-homed.”

“What about the families like Hermione’s. They loved her!”

“Then what do _you_ propose?” Draco argued.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“What if we approached them at the birth of their child. Anyone who seems like a danger gets an obliviate and we home the child. Those that aren’t a danger could have access to resources for help and include them in our world from then on. It would be better for the children to grow up in this world, it’s their birthright. They will join it one day anyway.” Ron said, surprising the men in the room.

“That’s not a bad idea. The muggles have something called social services. They take children out of unsafe and negligent homes. It wouldn’t hurt to screen these people. We could have them move into towns of just these muggle families with magical children. They would have understanding and support from the get-go." Harry said. Seamus was nodding in agreement.

“We have to acknowledge the danger to the children by their own families. After all, it was the muggle families of the Muggleborns who started this.”

“Is no one going to point out the fact that Snape has been kidnaping children?” Ron said.

“What should he have done? Let them be sent off to Redcar? Fuck that!” Draco said passionately.

Hermione walked into the room, a tired grimace on her face.

“What’s going on in here?” Hermione asked.

“Since the muggles now know Hermione as the Minister of Magic, I vote to keep her in the position. She went to the Muggle Prime Minister yesterday and they worked out a deal.” Draco told them.

“I second Hermione for Minister.” Harry said. “what was the deal?”

"Mass obliviate with a good cover story," Hermione interjected.

“And they just agreed to that?”

“No. I also threatened them.”

"I could see how that could change their mind," Ron said nodding his head knowingly.

“How are Malfoy and Nott?” Ron inquired, changing the subject.

“They will both be fine in a few days. I did all I can for them and I have quite a few people from the trains that are healers. They are much more skilled than I am and are currently seeing to everyone else. It’s a good thing the Manor is so large and that the House-elves are so amazing. They had everyone a room assignment, a meal, and the promise of a shower in minutes. I was very impressed.”

“When can we expect this mass obliviate to take place?” Harry asked.

“Newt Scamander arrives in the morning," Hermione answered.


	22. Fantastic Beasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is especially spoilery for Fantastic Beasts. If you wish to not be spoiled and do not care to know exactly how they managed things, you could skip this chapter.

## Chapter Twenty-Two: Fantastic Beasts

Newt Scamander walked into the Manor with a dark brown leather briefcase and a smile, his grandson trailing along behind him. The entire magical world was just starting to hear about Britain’s third magical war right on the heels of the last two and Newt had stayed away for a multitude of reasons. The major being anonymity. Perhaps it would have stayed that way had a young witch named Hermione Granger not reached out to him. If there was any way that he could help bring some semblance of peace to the magical community, he would do it in a heartbeat. Her letter that eloquently begged for relief was duplicated and sent around the world. If he had anything to say about it, he would make sure that the British magical community found enough allies to protect itself. After all, he would hate to have to leave Dorset after all of these years.

Draco and Hermione met him in the crowded foyer. People milled about busily as if there were important matters to be taken care of immediately. He had no idea why so many people were there. Last he knew, the government hub was still below London.

“Hello Mr. Scamander, I am Hermione Granger. I sent you the letter and this is Draco Malfoy.”

“It’s a pleasure. This is my grandson, Rolf” Newt gestured to the dark-haired man behind him. Rolf was nearly as famous as his grandfather in their profession. He used to be the chief consultant for the daily prophet for magical creatures.

"Pleasure,” Hermione said with a smile. Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“I’ve never tried an obliviate of this size. I think it will take several vials and trips to accomplish what you wish to do.” Newt was clearly excited; a leather journal was clutched in his old weathered hand.

“But it can be done?” Hermione inquired with baited breath.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Thank Merlin!” She breathed. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“Rolf will take one of the thunderbirds and two vials. I will take the others. I think that if we go over four major cities, then the rest fall in line quickly enough. Your only difficulty will be having an Auror force big enough to rewrite the whole fiasco in the papers.”

“We don’t need to rewrite it,” Hermione announced. “It will all be explained away as a big hoax. All of the guards from Redcar will be found in one room, unexplainably dead. In their possession, a mission statement from their cult will be found. The hoax of scaring the world with a magic that doesn’t exist. It’s the least they can do for us.”

“When would you like to get started?” Newt asked, his eyes sparkling.

“As soon as you are ready, I suppose.”

“Hermione, you can come with me and your young man can go with Rolf. With things as they are, we need to be careful, don’t we?” He winked at her and she smiled and chuckled. Draco was just relieved that she was being paired with the old man and not his handsome grandson.

Hermione took Newt’s arm as he side-along apparated them to Glasgow, Scotland.

“Come along, Granger. No time to spare.” Newt said as he flipped open the lid of his briefcase and walked into it. Hermione followed, her eyes wide as saucers. His briefcase was just as amazing as she always thought it would be. She meandered behind the magizoologist as he wound through the different enclosures. It was an absolutely brilliant use of an undetectable extension charm.

“Okay, Frank. I really appreciate this. Couldn’t have just asked any old bird to help me, not with your prior experience.” He crooned lovingly. Frank was old, his feathers have started to dull but he perked up and began to preen in front of his long-time friend and once savior. “Ready?”

The thunderbird screeched and extended his wings. Using a mighty flap of his wings, he was airborne.

“Frank,” Newt shouted as he tossed the vial of the swooping evil’s venom in the air. Frank turned in an ever-tightening spiral finally catching it in his long deadly talons.

They climbed back out of the magically expanded suitcase and watched as Frank rose through the air and into the clouds. They darkened, and thunder began to roll through the valley. They waited there like that for a quarter an hour for Frank to come back to Newt. The rain had fallen and the obliviate had begun to take hold. Frank landed next to them with a loud whoosh, his wings back beating to enable him to land gently next to Newt.

Hermione was absolutely nonplused. She could only have imagined what it was like for him to have to do this in New York City after his duel with Grindelwald. She watched Newt as he murmured softly to the old bird and pet his feathers back into place. The moment Frank was once again secured in his magical habitat, Newt extended his elbow to Hermione, holding his briefcase in his other hand. She lightly laced her hand around his arm before they were once again apparating to the next city. Carlisle.

Once again Frank took to the air and it wasn’t long before the second city succumbed to the obliviate. They were back to the Manor within an hour, a steaming cup of tea for each of them as they waited for Rolf and Draco to return. They didn’t know how long it would take realistically since most of the magical news was from London, which was one of their first stops. It was their belief that the clouds with the obliviate would move and eventually encompass all of the U.K. It was just a theory but one grounded in a bit of history. New York City was not the only place that felt the effects of the obliviate in 1926. It was said to reach up through Massachusetts, southwest to Pennsylvania and all the way down to Delaware. Also, the marine life had acted oddly for several hours off the coast.

The moment Draco and Rolf walked in, Hermione snorted in amusement. Luna had found them at some point while they were out and had braided bits of yellow grass into their hair for protection. Rolf looked absolutely smitten but Draco looked horrified.

“It is time to say goodbye and if you ever need our services again, just send another owl. Until next time, Minister.” Newt said to Hermione with a twinkle in his eye.

Hermione was gaping at the Scamander’s backs. Luna winked and waved goodbye at her before twirling around and taking the arm of a very infatuated Rolf Scamander.

“It’s time to let everyone know it is safe for them to go home.” Hermione sighed. “Then I have to set the stage for the cult. We can’t leave any loose ends.”


	23. One More Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter I wrote for this story. I was so inspired by Liam Neilson's rendition of Schindler and the scene where he fled the factory after the allies won the war. It was a powerful scene. I know I haven't done it justice, but I wanted to include it anyway.

## Chapter Twenty-Three: One More Life

The massive crowd followed Hermione out of the Manor and watched as she led them to the gates, to freedom, to a safe life once more. Hermione paused at the gates. The hunters had brought the bodies of the magical dead to the Manor. She looked at them with horror. Long rows of bodies waited for identification and burial. Andromeda laid still and unmoving among the line of the dead. Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes as her stomach heaved. Not only did Teddy lose both of his parents at the Battle of Hogwarts but he lost his grandmother to this war. Anxiety surged from the center of her being.

“I could have gotten more out!” Hermione cried. “I did not do enough, save enough! I could have done more, and I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sobbed as the crowd held their mouths, tears pricking at their eyes.

The magical population surrounded her, a small golden ring was held in Draco’s hand. The depth of her emotions swirled around them all as they watched their savior break down.

“For what you have done, you will be honored, Hermione. You saved every single one of us. Without you, we would have died.” Draco said.

“I didn’t do enough. I had the money! I could have bribed them, but I didn’t. I didn’t.”

Oliver Wood pressed forward only to stop in front of her and squat, taking her hands in his.

“Even if you had only saved one life, just one, it would have been enough. This ring was crafted by every single survivor that you saved. There is a drop of magic from each of us. It binds us to you. We owe you a great debt that we could never, in a million years, repay.”

“You owe me nothing. I did not fight valiantly like Harry and Ron or even sacrifice myself like Lucius Malfoy! I sat in comfort in lavish surroundings. I did nothing to earn this gift.”

Dolohov approached slowly, the survivors fearfully cringed back from him as he made his way to Hermione.

“Pchelka,” He cupped her face and turned it to his. “Not every war is won with a wand and not every war is won by strength of hand to hand or wand to wand combat alone. You are not only a heroine for defeating the Dark Lord on the front lines but also because you did something much more difficult here. You did not rush to the front lines to destroy your enemy at this blatant injustice. Instead, you protected thousands of people from the danger and inhumane treatment by hiding them. You needed to be above reproach in the world and to the hunters so that you could do what was necessary. You deserve this and more.” Dolohov said emphatically. “As a man, the duty to protect should have been mine but I couldn’t do it on my own. I don’t think I would have risked myself the way you did if I were in your shoes. None of us did enough. But you did more than most.”

“It is only by your intervention that the wizarding world is once again safe and secret. Who else would have walked up to the Muggle Prime Minister to force him to obliviate his own people so that we would no longer be hunted? You did that, Hermione! You saved us!” Narcissa said vehemently but gently, her hand on Hermione’s arm. The survivors surged forward, asking for forgiveness, showering her with their thankfulness.

Draco held Hermione and the survivors took a quick step back at the look in Dolohov’s eyes, trying to give her space to collect herself.

Hermione looked over the crowd of people she saved without any triumph or pride. The least she could have done was protect them. They owed her nothing for doing exactly what any feeling human being would do. She couldn’t wrap her head around that, their thanks.

“I can’t stay.” She choked out, touched and guilty at the same time.

“I will go with you, Pchelka.”

“No. You promised me that when this was over you would sit your trial and accept whatever verdict they laid at your door.” Hermione said softly. He nodded, accepting her words as if they were law.

"I'll go with you," Draco said. Hermione nodded. "Where do you want to go?"

“I have a place in Moscow. You are free to use it if you wish.” Dolohov said. Hermione shook her head and noticed the offended look in his eyes.

“Why are you being so accommodating? This seems more than just about saving your life.” Hermione asked quietly.

“When you fought against me in the Department of Mysteries, I was impressed. A mere slip of a girl got the drop on me, a seasoned warrior for the cause. I have to admit that I was fascinated with you. Actually,” He said giving Draco major side eye. “I was obsessed with you, everything about you. I even kept newspaper clippings that mentioned your name. Looking back, it was not a very healthy outlet for me to put all of my focus on you.”

"I'd say," Draco grumbled.

“Since I came here though, my focus had become more of a redemption, a dream for a better world. My beliefs have been changed… by you.” Dolohov finished despite Draco’s disruption.

“I hope you truly mean that.” She whispered.

“I do. Hermione, isn’t that enough, to not only save thousands but also change the deep-seated hatred and beliefs of a former enemy?”

"It will never be enough because, at the end of the day, I could have saved more." She said brokenly.

“Don’t leave us for long.” Isolde Finnegan said as she slid her tiny hand into Hermione’s, her other hand in Seamus’.

Hermione looked down at one of the many little girls she had saved and smiled. There was one girl that never had to be sliced open time after time for an experiment. She smiled through her tears at the little girl who had brought so much light and joy into all of their lives in just the short amount of time she was at the Manor.

“I have a chateau in France.” Draco offered quietly.

“Sounds lovely.” She said.

“Before we go,” Draco said as he pulled out a clump of dry, brittle hair. After setting the small bundle on the ground, he prodded it with the tip of his wand, wrinkling his nose at the smell of burning hair. “I don’t think we want this to fall into anyone’s hands.”

Hermione nodded as she slid her free hand into his as she detangled the other from Isolde. With a twist, they were gone.

They landed in the main parlor of the opulent chateau and Hermione paused to take a look around. If she didn't know better, she would assume that she had stepped backward in time to when the French kings owned magnificent houses. The architecture and art on the ceiling were breathtaking. She stood in awe of the impressively preserved display.

“The Ministry will need to be rebuilt and apparently, I am to retain the post I claimed. I can only give myself a week here.” She murmured regretfully.

“That,” Draco muttered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “is plenty enough time to convince you to marry me.”


	24. The Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story and I hope you all enjoyed it... well, I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as anyone can enjoy reading a story such as this...

## Chapter Twenty-Four: The Ever After

**_Three years later:_ **

Hermione was watching Narcissa play with the large group of toddlers from the garden patio where Draco and Lucius were taking tea with her. She smiled as the Malfoy matriarch started spinning, hands out chasing the giggling children. She had a black silk scarf tied over her eyes and a wide smile on her lips.

“How long are the children going to stay?” She asked Lucius. She was watching him out of the corner of her eye and sat smugly as a small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Narcissa and I have agreed to take them all on a permanent basis. Plus, my grandson needs to have kids to play with while he is here.”

“How do you know it’s going to be a boy?” Hermione wondered, her hand smoothed over the large bump she was sporting.

"Malfoys always provide their heirs first." His matter-of-fact arrogance made her narrow her eyes.

“It’s not like you can choose.”

“Not normally, no, but the Malfoys always include something special into the wedding night ritual.”

Hermione raised her brow and shot Draco a piercing look. He didn’t look contrite, however, he actually looked pleased with himself.

“Did you get me pregnant on purpose on our wedding night?”

Draco immediately put up his occlumency shield and wiped the smile off his face. He gulped as she pinned him with her stare.

“Now, Love,” He began.

“Don’t you, _now Love_ , me, Draco Malfoy! Did you or did you not circumvent my contraception potion to get me pregnant on our wedding night?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” She exploded.

“You’re officially the Minister of Magic now. You were never going to be ready. Yes, I should have told you about the negating properties of the rite but Hermione, I love you. I want children with you. I want a whole life with you.”

“You should have told me.” She grumbled.

“I’m sorry, Love. Next time I want another child, I’ll tell you I am sabotaging your potions.”

“Or you can ask me to go off of it.”

"I am a Slytherin." He announced with a repulsed look on his face as if being open about something was purely a Gryffindor trait. Lucius cleared his throat, obviously amused and enjoying their spat.

Hermione sighed and sent Draco a look that meant his punishment would be had in the privacy of their own rooms.

“How is it, being Minister of Magic?” Lucius asked, not fooling anyone with the change of subject.

“Good. All of the hype about magic has died down, ensuring the safety of wizardkind. The Muggle Prime Minister was nearly in tears of gratitude when I met him for lunch last week. I'm pretty sure he has sung my praises to the Queen. Severus has been a huge help rounding up the hunters. One of them even had the audacity to beg me to send them to Azkaban instead of being in Snape's care."

“I think Snape enjoys it.”

“No doubt. I’ve never seen him smile so much before.” Draco said with a furrowed brow. It was disturbing.

“Isolde and Emily are attending Hogwarts this year. They came over to show me their new wands. Such sweet girls.”

Draco and Lucius' eyes met with incredulity. Those girls were terrors with beguiling smiles. Like small dolls, they were doted on and got whatever they wanted but could turn on a dime. They must have been taking lessons from Hermione.

“What about Potter?”

“What about him?”

“Did he take the job?”

“Yeah. I don’t think he ever seriously considered being a Professor, but it suits him. It’s for his best subject too. I think it’s good. He needed to get away after his disastrous relationship with Ginny.”

“At least one good thing came out of that relationship ending,” Draco muttered.

“What?” Lucius said, smirking, knowing the answer would irritate his pregnant daughter-in-law.

“Blaise is finally happy again,”

“I never thought that he would get along so well with the Weasley girl, but time makes liars of us all,” Lucius said, looking bluntly in Hermione’s direction.

“As long as he treats her well,” Hermione said, gritting her teeth.

“What happened to all of the prisoners on Granger’s List?” Lucius inquired, taking a sip of tea.

“They are still at the Manor. They have nowhere else to go and Hermione is such a softie. She can’t bear to kick them out.”

“What do you want me to do? Every time I bring it up they start crying and kissing my robes. You kick them out.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Lucius began. “Why don’t we build a town and give them jobs. It is a universal truth that humans need to feel that their lives have meaning. Give them direction.”

“That,” Hermione said, thoughtfully. “is not a bad idea at all. Good job, Lucius!”

Lucius smirked and said, “I live to serve,”

“Bollocks,” Draco muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Dear?" Hermione asked, refilling her teacup.

“Nothing, Love, just something in my throat.”

“No doubt,” Hermione said dubiously. Suddenly a gush of warm water soaked through her dress and Hermione jumped up, hands supporting her belly.

Lucius and Draco stood quickly, realizing the situation. Draco dried her with a flick of his wand and picked her up, taking long strides into the Manor. People were all over the place, bowing to them as if they were royalty and Draco grit his teeth, desperate to get Hermione to the room they had prepared for the birth.

When they finally got up to the room, a medi-wizard walked in followed by Dolohov. His trial had been the most charged out of all of them. He not only evaded capture from the first war but also took the deal that set the wards around Redcar. The jury debated heatedly for weeks until Dolohov made an odd but satisfying request. Instead of spending the rest of his life in Azkaban or meeting a firing squad for a death penalty, he offered his life and magic to Hermione. Willingly he bound himself to her, knowing that he could never use his magic again without her permission. The Jury accepted the plea and that was that.

Hermione clenched her teeth against the tightening in her stomach, riding the wave of pain that accompanied it. After glaring at the extraneous people in the room, Draco shooed out everyone, leaving only the healer.

 Hours passed as the residents of Malfoy Manor awaited word with baited breath about their beloved savior and her unborn child. Family and close friends awaited the new arrival in the sitting room, drinking tea and eating the light delicacies of the House Elves.

Finally, Bippy popped into the room a large happy smile on her face.

“A little girl,” the elf announced seconds before Draco rushed in, holding a tiny pink bundle.

The room was silent for a heartbeat before Harry started to laugh uproariously. Pausing long enough to say, “And you were so sure you were going to have a son,”

 

 


End file.
